


25 Days of Christmas

by HunterEnough



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkward Kissing, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Christmas in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Smut, Eye Sex, First Kiss, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Gift Giving, Hand Jobs, M/M, Surprise Kissing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-17 00:55:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 72,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16964703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunterEnough/pseuds/HunterEnough
Summary: Dean wants his angel...and his brother...to experience a real Christmas. Who needs a cheap cardboard advent calendar? Dean can do way better than that.25 Days of family, love, food, and gift giving.This work is rated E for events that may or may not occur during later chapters. I'll edit tags as I go along. Side Note: While I try to keep the characters true to themselves, I'm just going to go ahead and tell you now, I unkilled people I wanted alive. So there's that.





	1. December 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr for @notfunnydean's SPN Advent Calendar Challenge 2018. This is my first long fic, and I'm really new to sharing my writing. If you find any errors, or just have feedback, please let me know. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Unfortunately, I don't own the characters or the bunker, but I can dream.

The crates were designed with permanence in mind, meant to be rugged and useful. He’d spent a week in the bunker’s workshop under the guise of “dicking around with a new charm box maybe,” carefully measuring and cutting each piece, sanding them by hand until they were buttery smooth, pre-drilling each nail hole, carefully applying layers of paint and sanding between to give them that certain aged appeal, before carefully stenciling the names onto a handle side of each, red for his brother and blue for the angel. Maybe after the holidays, he’d make a third and build a bench for them to slide into, but for now, these were perfect for his purpose. The little 25 DAYS ‘TIL CHRISTMAS calendar was also handcrafted, the tiny blocks causing far more nicks on his knuckles during sanding than the larger pieces had. Still though, with all the pieces in place, the whole thing was certainly worth it.

He’d put time into other parts of his plan as well. Working in stolen moments between cases and research to identify the ideal items for each day, a pretty even split of practical and fun, with a touch of sappy thrown in to show just how important these two men were to him. His brother and his angel were going to have a real Christmas this year if it killed him. Now, he just had to lay down the law.

Dean pounded on Sam’s door first, wanting to give the man time to make his way to the kitchen before he called on Cas to join them. Despite his frequent, if subtle, requests, the angel still rarely spent the night in the bunker.

He poured himself coffee, ensuring that the pot was still sufficiently supplied for the other two, while he waited. When Sam grumbled into the kitchen, he too went straight for the pot, filling one of the mugs that Dean had set out.

“Cas? Got a minute?” Dean spoke the question firmly, not bothering with a full prayer, knowing that the angel was likely waiting for the indication that they were starting their day to join them. The flutter of wings was a near instant answer. Both the question and Cas’ sudden appearance drew Sam’s focus. Dean indicated for both of them to sit, pouring Cas a cup of coffee before joining them at the table.

“Family meeting time boys.”

Sam’s head snapped up in surprise, while Cas just canted his head to the side.

“We’re going to do Christmas up right this year. I’m starting a new family tradition. I saw one of those advent calendar thingies in the store and I figured I could do so much better than a piece of waxy chocolate. So, here’s how it’s gonna be: First, this is my gift to you guys. You aren’t allowed to horn in and start trying to get me gifts. You want to give me something, put it under the tree at Christmas just like Santa.” Sam was looking startled, and Cas’ head had tilted further toward his shoulder.

“Second, no peeking. Not in my room, not in my mail if I get packages, not on my laptop, not in my duffel if we’re on a case. Peeking is cheating and that takes all the fun out of it. I’ll put your gift for the day in the crate so you can check it out at breakfast.” He gestured behind him at the elaborate display he’d made of the crates and the little calendar. Sam was openly gaping at this point, while Cas’ eyebrows had begun to scrunch together. Dean rushed to finish before they started with the questions.  

“Finally, we stick together this month. That means no taking solo cases, Cas, no flapping off to Chuck knows where every night. We’re doing the whole home for the holidays thing as much as possible this year. Questions?”

“Are you dying?” Sam blurted the question out as soon as Dean finished talking. Dean snorted and smirked, but didn’t have time to answer.

“I haven’t noticed anything physically wrong with you, nor any dark magic, but I must agree with Sam. An entire month of Christmas does seem to imply that something is happening that we are not yet aware of. This is unexpected and a bit...sentimental.”

Dean understood what they were saying, but it did make him a little sad that they really believed, _both of them_ believed, that the only reason that he would do something like this was if all hell was about to break loose.

“NO! No. Nothing bad is happening. This is the first time in, well, maybe ever that nobody’s cursed or dying or being mind controlled or ridden by an angel or a demon. No apocalypse hanging over our heads. Just us, just normal cases, just finally getting our own slice of hunter normal for a minute, and I really want to take advantage of it. I want to do this right for you guys for once. I want you both to have a _real_ Christmas for once. Or as close as I can make it anyway.” He shook his head. He just wanted them to be together for once. Was that so hard to understand? Granted, this was a little out of character for him. He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck and squeezed. Maybe this had been a stupid idea.

Cas seemed to catch his mood quickly, as usual, seeming to read the beginnings of doubt and embarrassment in the gesture. “Dean, I have witnessed every iteration of this holiday since prior to its dedication to Christ. I have not, however, experienced a family Christmas for myself. I would be honored to do so with you.”

Cas’ eyes had met Dean’s as he started speaking, and Dean held his gaze, gauging his sincerity. Despite his lack of a funny bone, the angel did have a strong handle on sarcasm.  Seeing the angel to be earnest, Dean grinned. “I’m honored to have you Cas. Pleasure’s all mine.”

A tiny huff of a chuckle from Sam’s direction drew Dean’s attention to the other man. “Alright Gigantor, what about you. Are you gonna play by the rules and let us have a Christmas or are you going to be a giant bitch about it and ruin it for all of us?”

Sam rolled his eyes and then deployed Bitch Face #64. “You have to admit Dean, this isn’t exactly the way we normally operate. I mean, the last thing you got me for Christmas was shaving cream from the gas station I think, and we only celebrated then because...well, anyway, you can’t blame me for jumping to end of world stuff when you start talking about celebrating for a whole month.” Dean simply tipped his head in acknowledgement. “But I see your point. This is our first chance to do this, so we might do this right. Who knows when we’ll get a chance again.”

Dean snorted. “And with that ringing endorsement. It’s December 1st. That’s 24 days til Christmas. Go see what’s in your boxes.” He made a shooing motion towards the crates.

He’d decided to start small. Each man had a tiny package carefully wrapped in silver paper. Inside was a micro MagLight flashlight designed to be attached to a key ring. Sam immediately shone his directly into Dean’s eye.

“Dammit Sammy, those things are bright, ya know!”

Sam just laughed while Cas clicked his light on and off, carefully aimed at the floor. “Thank you Dean. This is a very practical gift.”

Dean flushed at the gruff thanks, reaching up again to rub the back of his neck. “Seriously, I just thought, if we get stuck in a damned cave, it would be nice not to have to use a lighter to see.”

~~~~~

Dean had fled the kitchen for a shower nearly immediately after he had watched them open their gifts. Once Sam had been sure that he was gone, he had leaned toward Cas conspiratorially and whispered “I think he’s hiding something.”

“I believe he just told us that he was hiding more gifts.” Cas might agree that such an over the top gesture was out of character for Dean, might in fact find it eerily reminiscent of Dean’s insistence that the angel must not die without experiencing intercourse, but he was planning to do more research before he further accused the man of keeping bad news from them.

“You know what I mean Cas. Dean doesn’t do chick flick moments, and now he’s got a whole month of _Christmas_ planned? _Planned_ , Cas. As in he spent time thinking about the right gifts and ordering things and HE BUILT SPECIAL BOXES TO PUT OUR PRESENTS IN.” By the end of his brief diatribe, the younger hunter’s voice was nearing a shout.

“I believe that his explanation was quite sincere. There have not been opportunities in the past to truly enjoy a family holiday. This is his way of making up for so many missed or imperfect years. He truly wants us to experience this season the way that he feels the holiday should be. You should be quite familiar with his exuberance regarding life experiences.” This last was said with a slight raise of his eyebrow.

“Yeah, but, Cas, usually he only gets in those kinds of moods when there’s an apocalypse around the corner or he’s got a hellhound breathing down his neck.”

“Sam, I understand your concern. However, I feel that it would be mean-spirited to ruin Dean’s obvious effort. If you are concerned, continue to monitor him for other unusual behavior, but do not let it interfere with your enjoyment. You would feel twice as guilty if you spoiled his plans only to learn that he was honest about his motivations.”

Sam huffed, evidently deciding that Cas was not going to take his side. He grabbed his new flashlight with a sigh, flashed it once at the angel’s face rather cheekily, and stalked out of the kitchen.


	2. December 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pure domestic fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr for @notfunnydean's SPN Advent Calendar Challenge 2018. The prompt for December 2 was 'A Letter for Santa.' This is my first long fic, and I'm really new to sharing my writing. If you find any errors, or just have feedback, please let me know. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Unfortunately, I don't own the characters or the bunker, but I can dream.

Cas loved the ability to remain just outside of human perception. It gave him time to observe without altering the authenticity of his subject. While he could be using this ability to gain knowledge of Dean’s upcoming plans for this “advent calendar” gifts, he was much more interested in understanding what was motivating his hunter to engage in such an elaborate celebration of “the days of Christmas.”

Despite his words to Sam yesterday, Cas was left with lingering concerns regarding Dean’s motivation. He understood the man wanting to replace Sam’s memories of so many less than festive holidays with a spectacular display of Christmas spirit, that was very much a part of Dean’s “big brother/take care of Sammy” nature. What was confounding him was his hunter’s inclusion of the Castiel himself. While Dean had made it clear that he considered Cas to be family, _his brother_ , he simply didn’t feel that their history merited such intense effort. Thus, he had positioned himself in the kitchen to wait and observe the man, not in his actions, so much as _him_.

Dean had entered the kitchen promptly at 6 with two small but beautifully wrapped packages. He went immediately to his Christmas display and placed one in each crate, shiny red paper for his brother and star patterned blue for the Cas. Rather than move to the coffee pot, however, he lingered.

Cas tilted his head, allowing himself to focus on Dean’s _soul_ rather than his physical presence in a way that he normally avoided for his own comfort. As always, the sight caused his eyes to squint slightly, the brightness much the same as looking directly into the sun. Dean’s soul was a thing of beauty. Cas watched as he ran his hands over the crates carefully, as if inspecting for splinters or rough patches. His soul, as he ran his hand over his brother’s crate, flowed with warm pleasant colors: _happiness, love, home, safe_. It was mirrored in his face by the slightest hint of a smile turning up the corner of his mouth.

When he turned his attention to Cas’ crate, the colors flared bright and hot before becoming more muted before fading out almost completely: _joy, passion, guilt, longing, rejection, loss._ Cas’s thoughts rushed together as he scrambled to comprehend what he was seeing. Their journey to this point had not always been smooth, but he thought that they had settled into an easy rhythm lately. Why would thoughts of the angel cause such intensely _bad_ feelings? What had he done to cause his hunter such pain?

Cas retreated to his room to consider the matter more deeply before he was summoned for breakfast.

~~~~~

Dean stiffened his shoulders and made his way over to the coffee pot. Now was not the time for brooding over impossible dreams. He quickly added water and grounds before flipping the machine on. Once the coffee was brewing, he focused on assembling the ingredients for breakfast, whipping together the pancake batter and letting it rest while he prepared the bacon and sliced strawberries _acceptable rabbit food_. When the bacon was fried to his standards, he laid it out on paper towel to keep warm in the oven and stalked off to find this brother and his angel. A knock and hollered “Breakfast!” on each door earned him near identical grunts, and he grinned as he made his way back to the kitchen to ladle pancakes onto the griddle. The first batch was just being flipped off the griddle when Sammy came stumbling into the kitchen, bleary eyed, with Cas close on his heels. Sammy’s eyes immediately went to the crates, and his eyes went wide when he saw the packages waiting for them. He made a move toward them before Dean interrupted him.

“Breakfast, _then_ present Sammy.”

He gestured at the table and both men sat. Dean looked them over as he poured them coffee. It was good to see Sam looking healthy and well rested, if a bit disheveled from sleep. Cas on the other hand, despite being adorned in his standard “Holy Tax Accountant” attire, looked weary. It was a look that Dean hadn’t really seen on the angel since...well, since the last big bad they’d dealt with had been wearing them thin. Dean’s eyebrows pinched together.

“Everything ok Cas?” At his words, the angel’s face cleared instantly to his normal look of bland interest.

“Of course Dean, why do you ask?”

“You just looked, I don’t know, worn out I guess.”

“I find that even if I don’t sleep, mornings are still less than pleasant.”

Dean laughed at his disgruntled expression. “Coffee’ll fix you right up. No worries buddy.”

Breakfast was generally quiet with the exception of scraping forks and Dean slurping his coffee. Sam was happy with his strawberries and pancakes, and the angel seemed to be enjoying the ease of quiet family time.The pleasant domesticity of it had Dean feeling a bit sappy. _I wish we could do this every morning._

When the plates were cleared to the sink and everyone’s coffee had been refilled, Dean motioned to the crates. “Now, since you cleaned your plate, you can see what you got.” His brother had been antsy since he had finished his last bite, silencing a groan when Dean had gone for a second helping of syrup drenched pancakes.

The men looked for all the world like they were freeing bombs from the brightly wrapped packages. “It’s not going to break, just rip the damned paper.” Both boxes were quickly removed from the remaining paper and pried open. Each held a small USB power bank.

“Should be enough to charge your phone a couple times.” Dean shrugged. “I'm sick of hearing ‘My phone was dead’ when I'm trying to get a hold of you guys! No excuse now not to keep your phone charged!”

Sam laughed out loud at that, and Cas just ducked his head bashfully.

Sam strode back over to the table where Dean remained seated and squeezed his shoulder. “Thank you Dean. These things are really cool! I can charge it right on my laptop or on the same plug as my phone. What a great idea!”

The angel was slightly more reserved, limiting himself to a quiet “Yes, thank you Dean. This was very thoughtful.

~~~~~

Once again, Dean escaped to the shower. Sam kept quiet and went to the sink to run water for the dishes. He knew that his brother was equally graceless at accepting both thanks and praise. Sam glanced up as Cas joined him at the sink.

“Sam, I have spent additional time considering your concerns from yesterday, and I have come to the conclusion that Dean is not hiding anything sinister in his wish to celebrate Christmas in this way.” His tone was deep and serious.

“Yeah Cas, I think I might have to agree. I think he’s just really happy to have us all safe in one spot for a change.” He shrugged. “Plus, if Dean was dying, he’d want to have Christmas _with_ us, not _for_ us, you know?”

“Yes. I understand. Dean can be very single-minded in his pursuits when he believes that his time is limited, but he has a genuinely giving heart when he is allowed to simply be himself.”

Sam grinned at the soft, sentimental look now plastered to the angel’s face. He just shook his head as the angel meandered out of the kitchen.

~~~~~

When Dean went back to his room to deposit his pajamas, he found a folded note tucked under his door.

  


_Dear “Santa,”_

_I know that you are very busy preparing gifts for the holidays, but I wanted to take a moment to thank you for accepting me into your family. You may not understand the impact of your kindness, but please know that your inclusion of this angel in your celebration of Christmas means more to me than you could begin to imagine. I am constantly amazed by the beauty of your soul, and this is a shining example of your true and loving nature._

_With Love,_

_Your Friend Castiel_


	3. December 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean shows off his best baking skills to impress the Cas and Sam. Spell work may be involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr for @notfunnydean's SPN Advent Calendar Challenge 2018. The prompt was 'At the Christmas Bakery' but I cheated and turned the bunker kitchen into a bakery.  
> This is my first long fic, and I'm really new to sharing my writing. If you find any errors, or just have feedback, please let me know. I hope you enjoy.  
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Unfortunately, I don't own the characters or the bunker, but I can dream.

**** Dean couldn’t remember the last time that he had voluntarily both gone to bed early  _ and  _ gotten up at the ass crack of dawn if a case hadn’t been involved.  He’d spent most of yesterday, the part that he hadn’t spent staring at Cas’ letter to “Santa,” driving to Grand Island to go  _ grocery shopping _ . He knew for a fact that he’d never voluntarily spent two hours letting a store clerk fill his cart with  _ organic, locally produced, grass-fed, free-range, single source, WHOLE  _ food. He didn’t even want to think about the dent his hippy spending spree had made on this wallet. It would be worth it though, if his angel could enjoy his breakfast without tasting all of the stray molecules left behind by chemicals or machine processing.

He had stashed his haul in his room, glad for the cooler bag that the clerk had tossed in free of charge when he’d realized that Dean would have to drive nearly two hours to get home. A change of ice packs after dinner and again before bed had kept the food safely at fridge temp.

He assembled the tools and ingredients on the counter carefully, double checking the recipe as he went. Mixing bowls, spoons, measuring cups, muffin tins, serving trays, saucepan, plates, forks, coffee cups, coffee, unbleached muslin, glass carafe, yeast, milk, eggs, butter, sugar, salt, flour, molasses, honey, maple syrup, pecans, and cinnamon. He’d gotten far more than he really needed, but he figured if this worked, maybe Cas would like to try more things.

Now for his fail-safe. If buying the most expensive staples in existence hadn’t rid the food of the flavors Cas disliked, this certainly should. Rowena had been surprisingly willing to help him with the spell when she learned what it was for. Her price,  _ there’s always a price _ , was that she be invited to sample his baked goods sometime.

He laid the square of blue paper  down on the counter and read the spell again to ensure that he wouldn’t stumble. Rowena had assured him that a slight mispronunciation wasn’t going to blow anything up, but he wanted to be sure. He’d memorized it with all the times he had studied it.

_ _

_ Et quod absque necessitate vel addita est accipere quod sit causa damnum. _ __  
_ Revelare cubito verissimo essentia rei. _ _  
_ __ Manente animi sanctitate nutrire possit.

He recited the translation for his peace of mind.  _ Take out that which was added without need or which causes damage. Reveal the truest essence of the thing. May the purity remaining nourish the soul.  _ He couldn’t find any fault in the words. He tucked the note back into his pocket.

There was no real ritual required with the spell. No funky blood sigils or potions. Rowena had simply told him that he should take several deep, "cleansing" breaths to “center himself” before reciting it. He did that now, taking the time to clear his mind as much as possible, keeping his eyes closed, but not squeezed tight.

The spell slid from his lips smoothly. Once he’d begun to recite the words, the rest seem to follow without effort. He took one more fortifying breath before he opened his eyes slowly. Honestly, nothing really looked different. The air seemed to smell better, he supposed, and that must be a good thing. 

A sense of well being settled over him as he began to mix and measure. The scent of the yeast rising from the forming dough put him in mind of what home he should be. The feel of it pressing back against the heels of his hands as he gently kneaded it was soothing. He was almost disappointed when he had the greased up dough back in the bowl to rise. Almost.  _ On with the good part! _

Dean had spent hours reviewing recipes before he’d settled on this one. He’d spent more hours researching proper substitutes for corn syrup before settling on a slightly less than even mix of pure maple syrup and organic local honey, erring on the side of honey, and replacing the brown sugar with a mix of molasses and white sugar for a richer taste. He could feel the drool forming in his mouth already. He retrieved his monster ( _ hah! _ ) muffin pans and carefully buttered each cavity before he was again measuring and stirring, this time over the stove. When the golden sauce had bubbled gently for the required two minutes, he spooned it into the wells of the muffin pan. He took care that each had the same amount of the ambrosial stuff before scraping the pan with the back of a spatula. A single lick had him moaning quietly. This was certainly,  _ hopefully _ , going to be worth the effort if the sauce was anything to go by. Finally, he added a generous sprinkle of (hand shelled and chopped) pecans to each well. 

There was still a bit of time before the dough would be ready, so he used the time to clean up the dishes and put away his ingredients. He examined the butter that he’d set on the stovetop to ensure that it had melted enough to spread.  At last, it appeared that the dough had “doubled in size.” He punched it down gently before turning it back out onto the lightly floured counter. He’d made sure that all of the remaining dough had been scraped up, and now the dough was sliding easily along the surface. He rolled the dough out, again gently, and brushed on the butter, sprinkled on the cinnamon and sugar he’d mixed, and gently shaped it into the signature jelly roll loaf. Twelve even slices, one placed into each muffin well, marking the top of the end pieces with a pecan to ensure that he put them on his own plate, another, shorter, rise and they were ready for the oven. He placed clean, but empty, plates in the Christmas crates, just in case the amazing smell drew either man to the kitchen before the rolls were out of the oven. He wiped down the cupboard again to remove the remaining flour before moving to his next feat of breakfast awesomeness. He’d made a pot of coffee for himself earlier of course, but this was special. Single origin, grade A Kona coffee. It was supposed to be the best. He’d put in  _ more _ hours of research trying to determine if there was a best way to prepare it, but hadn’t been able to really nail anything down. Much of it seemed to be personal preference. So, he’d chosen the method that seemed least likely to introduce extra molecules into the rarefied beans: pour over using the unbleached muslin as a filter into the glass carafe.

About 20 minutes into the baking cycle, Cas leaned around the corner, eyes firmly closed, and cleared his throat. “Dean, I’m not peeking, but the smells are quite enticing. May I join you?”

“Come on in Cas. Today’s present is still in the oven, but I kinda figured you guys might wander in before I was done. Hell, if it was me, I probably wouldn’t have waited this long.” He raised the flame under the water he’d been heating for the coffee. “I’m kinda glad you made it in before Sammy actually. I wanted to tell you that I really appreciated your letter, but you don’t have to thank me for being a part of our family. You...you just are. We wouldn’t be the same without you. I know. We’ve tried. And I don’t want you to think you’re an afterthought in this Christmas thing either. You and Sammy...well, you’re pretty much everything to me, ya know? It’s important to me that you get that man.” Dean could feel the heat of this blush all the way down his chest by the time he’d gotten it all out. He was a little surprised at himself for even acknowledging the letter, let alone  _ feelings _ . He cleared his throat awkwardly in the ensuing silence and returned to the coffee preparations. 

“Dean. I-” Whatever Cas was going to say was interrupted by Sam staggering into the kitchen. 

“It smells like a freaking Christmas bakery in here! I really hope that’s breakfast.” He grinned widely at his brother.

“Sit down you giant child. Yes, that’s breakfast, but I gotta explain it first, and I should have just enough time before those things come out of the oven.” Sam sat obediently.

“I think you’ll both approve of today’s meal. Sammy, it isn’t rabbit food, but I’ve gone as hippy dippy on the grocery choices as Grand Island would let me. Full on organic and a million other  _ green _ and  _ wholesome _ adjectives. Not one speck of artificial flavor to be found. Cas, I did  _ everything _ I could to reduce the ingredients, and the recipe, to the purest form I could. I’m hoping that I’ve eliminated at least some of the random extras that end up in food so that even if it tastes like molecules, they’re  _ good _ molecules. Okay?”

Cas nodded seriously, and Sam just grinned. 

“So this is today’s gift...the best, or well, hopefully the best breakfast ever.” The timer went off behind Dean. “These gotta rest for a minute before I can flip ‘em, but we can have coffee.”

He carefully tapped the top of one roll, judging the hollow sound as a sign of proper done-ness, and removed the trays from the oven to the wooden cutting board. The heavenly scent in the kitchen seemed to triple. He smiled in satisfaction and turned back to the carafe.

“Now, this ain’t just any coffee. This is ‘single-source, organically grown, grade A  _ Kona _ coffee from Hawaii. It’s supposed to be awesome. I even brewed it this fancy way so it wouldn’t taste like paper or our normal sludge.” He delicately gathered and removed the muslin from the top of the carafe before bringing three mugs and the fresh coffee to the table. He poured two cups theatrically,  _ presentation is key! _ , and settled one in front of each man before bustling back to the counter to finish the main attraction. After noting the position of the pecan marked “ends,” he quickly flipped each tin onto a waiting tray. He left the tins in place while he grabbed the two plates from the crates as well as his own. Tentatively, he lifted the corner of one of the pans, noting that the buns released cleanly, but the filling was being slow in its ooze out of the pan.  _ Another minute then, that’s the best part! _

He turned back to the table to see how the other men were enjoying the coffee and found them both staring at him, coffee untouched. Cas had his brows pinched together and his head tilted while Sammy simply looked dazed, his mouth hanging open slightly.

“What?”

Sammy’s mouth snapped shut and Cas righted his head.

“You made pour over coffee using unbleached muslin as a filter with single-origin beans from Hawaii…” Sam trailed off.

“Yes…?”

“And you baked...whatever that is...from scratch from the best ingredients you could get in  _ Grand Island _ ?”

“Yes…” It was Dean’s turn to trail off. He wasn’t sure where Sam was headed with this, and the attention was starting to make him feel a little squirmy.

It appeared that Sam wasn’t sure either. He looked at Cas for support.

The angel peered at him with a single corner of his mouth quirked up. “Dean. We are deeply appreciative of your obvious effort. We’re just…” He paused. “We’re just not accustomed to being  _ treated _ like this. I’m certain that this is already ‘the best breakfast ever’ and I haven’t even tasted anything yet.”

The air quotes instantly brought a grin to Dean’s face, and he relaxed. “Well, you guys deserve to be treated.” He turned back to the task of plating breakfast. He gave it one final critical glance,  _ that is fucking beautiful if I do say so myself _ , before presenting each man with a plate and fork. “Maple Pecan Cinnamon Rolls, hot from the oven. Enjoy fellas.”

Sam, still having not touched his coffee, tentatively cut off a piece of the pastry with his fork, bringing it to his mouth with equal hesitancy. Cas mirrored his actions. 

“Holy  _ fuck _ Dean!” Sammy said with his mouth still full. Dean’s reaction, beyond a re-emerging blush, was still forming when Cas  _ moaned _ . It was one of the most unholy and  _ fucking hot _ sounds Dean had ever heard. Cas, when Dean met his eyes, seemed torn between ducking his head in embarrassment over his reaction and  _ savouring _ his mouthful. Dean stood transfixed. He couldn’t drag his eyes away from the way that the angel wrapped his lips around his next bite, and the noise he made...some sinful cross between a whimper and a groan that had Dean’s entire body drawing tight. If it got this reaction, he’d bake for the angel with fancy bespelled ingredients at every fucking meal. 

The sound of a throat being cleared made him whip is eyes to Sammy’s face. The shit-eating grin had him immediately turning to fix himself a plate and trying desperately to get himself under control.  _ Real cool Winchester, pop a chub watching your best friend eating breakfast. Doesn’t get more humiliating than that...oh wait, your brother noticed… At least my angel is actually enjoying his food. _ With that thought firmly in his head as a success his embarrassment cleared, he grabbed his plate and sat down across from Cas.

Wicked grin still firmly in place, Sam met Dean’s eyes. “I think it’s safe to say that we are both really enjoying your efforts.” He took a loud slurp of his coffee and let out a muted groan of his own. “Seriously though Dean, this is fucking amazing. I knew you could cook, but this is really top-notch professional bakery level awesomeness. Soul food of the highest order cause we  _ know _ how much work you put into this for us.”

Rather than respond, he stuffed a giant forkful of gooey perfection into his mouth. He head fell back and a porn worthy moan exploded from his own mouth before he could stifle it.  _ Holy shit, they weren’t even just being nice. _ For once, he kept his mouth, and his eyes for that matter, shut as he slowly chewed his mouthful of heaven. When he opened his eyes, he was looking directly at Cas who was staring at him eyes wide and lips slightly parted. As Dean watched, the tip of his tongue flicked out to the corner of his mouth, catching a tiny bit of maple-honey sauce that had escaped. He was transfixed. 

Sam slurped his coffee.

Dean snapped his attention back to his plate.

Cas cleared his throat.

The three men returned to enjoying their meal, sans sexy sounds.

The mood shifted back to their normal light banter when Sammy begged for seconds in his best impersonation of a  _ little _ little brother. Dean scooped a second roll onto each of their plates, and relaxed back into his chair cradling his coffee and allowing himself to simply enjoy the easy domesticity of the moment.

“So, Cas, whaddaya think? Good molecules?” He teased the angel.

Cas, who had barely paused between bites to taste his own coffee, met Dean’s eyes.

“It… It wasn’t like other things I’ve tried. I  _ tasted. _ I  _ tasted  _ honey and maple and cinnamon. I  _ tasted _ it.” His gaze hadn’t wavered from Dean’s.

“Like for real? Like when you were…” Dean cut off the word  _ human _ . “Like when you could actually taste things?”

“Yes. Dean, it was... _ divine _ . I  _ tasted… _ ”

They sat watching each other.

Sam didn’t bother to interrupt this time. His belly was pleasantly full. Dean could sit staring longingly at the angel all morning as far as he was concerned. He was going to take a nap.

~~~~~

Cas couldn’t look away. Dean’s soul was alight. His soul was always unusually bright, the intensity of it made him feel short of breath, though he had no need to actually breathe. The physical sensations alone generally made the angel avoid studying it when there was a chance he would be observed. He couldn’t really control his reactions.

Today, however, it was different.  _ More _ . His soul seemed to undulate with ecstatic colors. The same sensations of  _ happy, love, home, safe _ that he’d observed yesterday had returned, but bright bursts of warmth seemed to shoot outward sporadically as well. They were so brief in duration that he was having difficulty getting a read on their significance. Truly, he had never observed such a fantastic thing. It made his mouth dry, his breath quicken, and his pulse race.  _ Arousal. I am aroused by the site of Dean’s soul. _

Being aroused by Dean was not a new phenomenon for the angel. The man was a perfect specimen of male aesthetics. Generally, however, studying his soul did not result in such a base reaction. 

“I’m glad.” Dean’s sudden continuation of their conversation caused Cas to startle to attention.

“Yes. I am surprised that these more ‘wholesome’ ingredients had such an impact on the flavor of the food. There wasn’t a single impurity to distract from the true flavors. Although, I do believe that knowledge of your effort positively impacted my perception of the tastes as well. You have given me a gift I could never have expected Dean, and I am very grateful.”

“Well, I did have a little help, and not just with the shopping.” His hunter’s gaze drifted away from his own. “I was worried that even the best ingredients would still have impurities from being packaged or acid rain or whatever. So I used a spell to remove the impurities. I figured if I started with the best, and then used the blessing, I’d get the biggest bang for my buck.”

“You spelled the food?” He kept his tone carefully neutral. “What was the spell? It seems to have worked perfectly.”

“Rowena helped me with it. I was a little worried since she said she only wanted me to bring her some leftovers in return, so I researched it myself before I used it. I couldn’t find anything about it that would cause ill effect.” Dean pulled the blue square from his pocket and passed it to Cas. She’s coming by later for her rolls. I’d better box them up. I guess I really owe her for how well this worked out.” The last was accompanied by a smile an another bright flare of happiness from his soul.

_ Take out that which was added without need or which causes damage. Reveal the truest essence of the thing. May the purity remaining nourish the soul. _ He translated without thinking, then studied the paper for a moment longer, admiring the man’s angular scrawl, so different from his own.

“You are correct, there should be no ill effects. It truly is designed to be a blessing. I do find the last line interesting. May the purity remaining nourish the soul. I would have thought it would been a more physical thing… restore the body or man would have been the more traditional conclusion. In spells, nourishment of the soul generally involves worthy effort or sacrifice. Although, in this case I suppose both were offered…” He was starting to think that there may be more significance to the changes that he’d observed in the man’s soul than his unusually good mood. He’d have to have a chat with the witch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rolls gratuitously described in this post, they're real and I love them. Recipe at https://www.tasteofhome.com/recipes/caramel-pecan-cinnamon-rolls/


	4. December 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guys put up a Christmas tree in the bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr for @notfunnydean's SPN Advent Calendar Challenge 2018. Today's prompt was "Putting up Christmas Decorations."
> 
> This is my first long fic, and I'm really new to sharing my writing. If you find any errors, or just have feedback, please let me know. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Unfortunately, I don't own the characters or the bunker, but I can dream.

When Sam stumbled into the kitchen the next morning, it was already after 8. There’d been no morning wake-up, and there was no coffee made. If he was honest, he was a little bummed. He’d been enjoying their new morning routine. His eyes slid to the crates.  _ It looks like Santa was sneaky  _ he grinned. There was a silver package the size of a shirt box in each crate, and a note propped against the little perpetual calendar, obscuring the Christmas block. Evidently they were to start this on their own then.

“Cas? Dean left us a note today. Want to join me?”

The angel appeared by the coffee pot and seemed disappointed that it was empty. He turned toward Sam. “A note?” He didn’t mention the coffee. Sam gestured toward the crates. 

“Grab it. I’ll start the coffee.” 

Cas grabbed the note and rejoined Sam at the coffee pot. They opened the note while the coffee brewed.

  
  


_ Hey guys,  _

__ Santa’s having a sleep-in.  
__ Open your gifts and wake me at 9 for details.  
_ If you haven’t eaten, we’ll grab breakfast at the diner in town.   
_ __ There’d better be coffee!

_ Dean _

_ P.S: Good morning! :)  _

Sam retrieved the packages from the crates. There was enough coffee in the pot for two cups, but neither made a move to pour. Dean hated when somebody took coffee from the pot before it was finished because ‘it made the whole rest of the pot weaker.’ Instead, they tore the paper off the gifts. 

“Christmas ornaments?” Each held an identical set of twelve multicolored glass bulbs. “This could be fun.” Sam didn’t remember ever having a real Christmas tree. They’d done a Charlie Brown style tree a few times, more often when he was younger, but never an actual tree.

Cas was staring at his ornaments, head tilted. 

“I’m guessing we’re gonna get a Christmas tree. Decorating could be fun. Dean did say if we wanted to give him gifts that we should put them under the tree.”

“I have never exchanged gifts. I cannot fathom what an appropriate gift would be for someone so… “ He let the sentence trail off still staring at the ornaments and appearing to be in deep thought. “My only experience with gift giving is as recipient. This…” he made a helpless gesture toward the crates. “And once Dean gave me a cassette of songs. I do not know how to choose a present that is appropriate for him.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at the mention of the cassette.  _ Dean gave Cas a mixed tape?! _

“Well, the best gifts are always the ones from the heart. Like yesterday, in general, cinnamon rolls and coffee are cool, but pretty common. But the effort that Dean put in? The research and the special shopping trip? That’s what made the meal so awesome. It really isn’t about giving a  _ thing _ so much as showing someone how you feel. Do you know what I mean?” Trying to explain gifts from the heart to a divine being was… a unique experience.

“I believe I do. It is evident that Dean put great thought and care into choosing gifts for each day of his ‘advent’ calendar. And the meal was crafted specifically with our tastes in mind. I understand what the gift should convey. It is choosing the vessel to ‘show how I feel’ that I find intimidating.”

“I couldn’t agree more man. Good thing we still have most of the month. I still haven’t found anything either.”

The men slipped into silent consideration over the problem while they poured themselves coffee. Cas poured a second mug and gathered both into one hand. “It is 8:57. I will go wake Dean. I believe that he will enjoy having his coffee delivered.”

The contemplative look on Sam’s face was quickly replaced by a wicked grin. “I’m sure he would.”

~~~~~

Cas focused on keeping the coffee in the mugs as he navigated the hallway. His mind was racing with thoughts about appropriate gifts. He wanted to show Dean that he was worth at least as much effort as Dean was putting in to making their first really family Christmas. Sam’s words were also weighing heavy on him... _ gifts from the heart _ and  _ showing someone how you feel _ played in a loop. 

Feelings were still a funny thing for him. Angels shouldn’t feel, but angels also shouldn’t have or want to have free will. Over the course of so many years, he’d learned a lot about feelings. The Winchesters had taught him so much about the value of family, loyalty, true righteousness, trust...Dean in particular had elicited an ocean of feelings so vast that it was frequently overwhelming. Still, Cas knew that when it came to interpreting feelings from others, he had trouble “reading” social cues and body language. Dean’s own early lessons on personal space, for example, were quite clear in speech, but the hunter would often migrate toward Cas if he hadn’t initiated a close position to start. Sam had once tried to explain that often what one said was not what one actually meant. Not lying, just an unwillingness to admit to a feeling that made them feel shame. From this, Cas had inferred that while Dean might want to be close to the angel, he was ashamed of that desire. Cas sighed. He wanted to be  _ very  _  close to Dean, and he wasn’t ashamed of that, but revisiting that line of thought was getting him nowhere in his consideration of gifts. Another matter for later consideration then.

~~~~~

Despite having properly prepared for sleeping in, Dean had been lying awake in since 7. He had no desire to leave his comfortable bed, but he’d be getting a wake up call any moment. He was excited about today. First, they’d grab breakfast, then hit the Walmart (the nearest being about an hour away) for a tree and more decorations. By the time they were done shopping and back home, they could have sandwiches for lunch and get to decorating. Before his year with Lisa and Ben, he hadn’t had a real tree since before...well, before they were hunters.

The knock on the door was so quiet he almost missed it.

“Come in!”

“Hello Dean. I’ve brought coffee.”

“Cas, man, you’re the best. I’d say you were an angel or a blessing, but that would be a little on the nose don’t you think?” He grinned as he gestured his angel closer. The man was carrying two mugs, maybe he’d sit with him for a bit. “C’mon in and sit down, let’s just enjoy this for a minute.”

_ Did I just invite Cas to hang out in bed and have coffee with me? WTF? _

Cas just smiled. He obviously remembered bedtime protocol because he immediately set the mugs on the dresser, shrugged out of his trench and suit coats, and kicked off his shoes. Reclaiming the coffee, he handed a mug to Dean before rounding to the other side of the bed and propping himself up against the headboard next to him. 

“We never get to do this Dean. I truly enjoy being able to spend time with you outside of a hunt.” His angel seemed to snuggle down into the pillows a little more before taking a sip of his coffee.

Dean knew he should probably feel self-conscious about sitting in bed practically shoulder to shoulder with the other man, especially when he was only wearing pajama pants and no one was sick or dying, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care. Simply put, there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

“So, since you brought coffee promptly at nine, and I heard Sammy stomping around earlier, I’m guessing you got my note. What do you think?”

“Sam and I speculate that based on today’s gift of ornaments, and your prior mention of a tree, that we will engage in a Christmas tree related activity. Sam is quite excited about having a real tree.”

“Just Sam?”

“Dean, every part of celebrating this holiday is new for me. I find it very…” Cas seemed to think about his words for a moment. “I am very happy that I get to experience this with you.”

Dean really wasn’t sure what to do with that. He wanted Cas to be happy. He wanted Cas to feel like a part of their family and like he belonged here. 

“We also discussed gift giving. I would very much like to get you a gift. Sam as well of course. But I am unsure how I can go about this without violating the “no flapping off” rule.” He shrugged. “I am also unsure what would constitute an appropriate gift.”

“First, you don’t have to get me anything man. You’ve dragged my sorry soul out of  _ hell _ for chrissake. Year after year you’ve helped me. You’ve saved my ass more times than I can count. I wouldn’t be  _ alive _ without you.”  _ Cas wants to get me a present!! _

“Those things were not gifts. I have learned that those are simply what we do for family. I would say that you’ve given me as much, if not more, than I have given you in that regard Dean. You taught me to think for myself. I’ve learned to feel. I want to give you a Christmas gift so that you can share the feeling that I have when you give me a gift.”

_ Okay, we’re firmly in chick flick zone. I have no urge to change the subject, and my fight or flight hasn’t kicked in. We’re just going to put this down to my really comfortable mattress. _

“How about this Cas. I’ll put in an exception to the sticking together rule. If you and Sammy need to go Christmas shopping, you can do that. I’d kinda appreciate it if you’d let me know before you fly away, because of some of the things I have planned, but we don’t need to be together every minute. I don’t expect you to give me a gift, but you could give me a rock and I’d be happy that you put the effort into getting me something. You capisce?”

“I capisce. Thank you Dean.”

“Now let’s get this show on the road. I’ve got a full day planned today.”

The angel seemed reluctant, but stood and moved to retrieve his outerwear. “I wish that we could do this more often Dean.”

~~~~~

Shopping for Christmas decorations was largely uneventful. Cas didn’t really have an opinion, and Sam was excited about everything. Dean settled on packing as much Christmas themed stuff into the cart as it would hold.

The tree, however, was a different matter. Sam wanted a  _ real _ tree. Like the live kind. 

“I know a live tree would be better Sam, but this way, we don't have to worry about burning down the bunker or something and we’ll already have the tree next year.”

Sam turned on his best puppy dog pouting face. Before Dean could cave like he usually did, Cas chimed in, “Plus, we are not killing a tree. I like this idea Dean.” Sam conceded the point. Dean might be convincible on his own, but with Cas on his side, he wasn’t likely to bend.

~~~~~

Things were going exactly to plan. They’d made it back to the bunker with their holiday loot and lugged it all down the stairs. Dean hadn’t missed his opportunity to point out how much easier it was to bring the boxed tree down the stairs than it would have been with a live tree, of course, and Sam had responded only with Bitchface Number 13. Sandwiches had been eaten and more coffee brewed.

“Okay guys, let’s do this.” Dean clapped his hands together.

To be honest, this is where his plan kinda went a little hazy. None of them had any practical knowledge in tree decorating. 

“Ummm, I guess we start by setting up the tree?” Sam suggested.

“Right, right. I’ll take care of that while you guys start unboxing the rest of this cr...stuff.”

The tree snapped together easily. Dean studied it. Being stuffed into the box had all of the branches kind of mushed together. He set about reorganizing the branches, aiming for the same fullness of the display tree they’d seen earlier. After he’d meticulously re-bent each twig, he stood back to assess his work. He judged it complete after a couple of tweaks and suddenly noticed the silence.

Cas and Sam had all of the tinsel, ornaments, and candy canes unboxed and ready to be added to the tree. They’d cleared the trash and settled in to… what? Watch him? Sam looked amused. Cas looked...he couldn’t really decide how Cas looked. His eyes were wide, his mouth was just slightly open, and when Dean met his glance, his tongue flicked out to wet the bow of his lower lip.  _ He looks fucking HOT _ **.** Dean shook his head to clear it of the sudden flood of less than pure thoughts that tongue had jump-started.

“Right. Let’s decorate this bad boy.” Sam grabbed the tinsel, and Cas trailed after him toward the pre-lit tree. They stood on either side of the tree and passed the ropes of tinsel back and forth around the tree. After a brief discussion on the aesthetics of tinsel, they started a second round in the opposing direction. Dean helped himself to a candy cane.

_ I wonder if that purification blessing would work on these? _ He took a deep breath, whispered the spell, picked up the candy and joined the other men at the tree.

He set the boxes at the base of the tree and unwrapped a candy cane for each man. Without asking, he shoved one in first his brother’s then his angel’s mouths. Sam grunted. Cas raised an eyebrow. 

_ That look... _ when the flavor registered for the angel his expression changed to one of bliss.  _ No, THAT look. Holy fuck.  _ Back down the rabbit hole of lust fueled images went his brain.

“I don’t remember these being this good. Must be a different brand.” Sam’s comment ripped Dean back from a particularly lewd image of licking the sweet mint flavor off Cas’ lips. He turned quickly to adjust himself under the guise of grabbing more ornaments.  _ Get ahold of yourself man. Lusting after an angel has to be a one way ticket to hell. We’ve covered this a million times by now. _

When he turned back to the tree, Cas had progressed from sucking on the cane to licking it delicately. Dean groaned. Sam laughed, a deep belly laugh, earning him a dirty look.

“Start decorating bitch.”

After that, Cas seemed to get with the program, allowing Dean to likewise regain his composure. It took less than half an hour to get all of the ornaments on the tree, then another fifteen minutes of rearranging, and the men were standing shoulder to shoulder to shoulder admiring their hard work.

“Get the lights Sam. Let’s light this thing UP!”

When the lights had flicked off, Dean plugged the tree in and silence fell over the room. Their tree really was beautiful. 

“Merry Christmas.” Dean whispered.


	5. December 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is his awkward self, and Sam rescues him with his attention to detail. More domestic fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr for @notfunnydean's SPN Advent Calendar Challenge 2018. Today's prompt was "Candy Cane Kisses."
> 
> This is my first long fic, and I'm really new to sharing my writing. If you find any errors, or just have feedback, please let me know. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Unfortunately, I don't own the characters or the bunker, but I can dream.

**** Dean had debated briefly about moving the “Advent Station” to the rec room by the Christmas tree, but he’d discarded the idea. He loved having his coffee at the table with Cas and Sam, with or without breakfast. It was almost as good as having his coffee in bed with his angel. Almost.

He’d also debated breaking out the Kona coffee and the pour over carafe, but that idea too was discarded. That shit was expensive and best saved for special occasions. He’d settled on firing off another blessing spell over their normal ground coffee and the coffee maker. After all, Cas drank the normal stuff without complaining. If this could kick it up a notch for free, why not?

He grabbed the stash of presents for today and placed them into the crates while the coffee brewed. When the pot was ready, he poured himself a mug, set out mugs for the other men, and settled himself at the table to wait.

~~~~~

Cas was pacing in his room. He’d heard Dean start moving around, and he could smell the coffee brewing. Since the morning of “the best breakfast ever,” Dean’s soul had been flaring brightly, and there were few things he enjoyed more than simply watching the ebb and flow of his hunter’s mood.

Then, the tree. Watching Dean’s soul as he’d preened each branch, petting each tiny twig into position,  _ grooming _ it to perfection… He’d been struck with a sudden and urgent  _ need _ for Dean to groom his wings with the same show of care. The thought of his hunter’s rough hands brushing over his primaries, of his thick fingers carding through his infinitely sensitive down. He  _ longed _ for that. It became another in a vast library of fantasies evoked by Dean that the angel knew in his heart would never come to be. Grooming was a sensual, deeply personal act. Even if he gave Dean the ability to see his wings, the hunter would never want to engage in such intimacy, especially with his current vessel .

Aside from the increased intensity of Dean’s soul, Cas had noted that Dean’s interpersonal dealings had changed slightly as well. Dean seemed to be more open. He smiled more. There’d been fewer of his standard self-deprecating comments. He’d accepted their thanks yesterday with only a slight blush and a stammered “I’m really glad you guys enjoyed it.”

He’d also never expected that Dean would allow him to share something as domestic as coffee in bed, but the man had not only done that but also  _ talked _ . About something that mattered. Honestly and  _ openly _ telling Cas that any gift he might give would be well received simply because it had come from him.  _ I really do need to contact Rowena about that spell. _

~~~~~

Cas was peeking around the kitchen door like he’d done the other morning. “Hello Dean.”

“You can come in. There’s coffee.” Dean smiled up at the angel as he passed. He watched as the angel poured himself a cup and sat across the table. The man produced a candy cane from his coat pocket and began unwrapping it.  _ If he’s going to sit there and suck on that thing I’m a dead man! Quick, distract him!! _

“Good morning Cas. You can grab your gift if you want. I’d kinda like to explain this one without Sammy around making sarcastic comments.” The angel popped the candy into his mouth as he moved to follow Dean’s suggestion.  _ So much for that then. We can do this. Great, now I’m talking to myself. He really is driving me crazy. _ Cas returned to the table and set down his gift. He seemed to think for a second and then popped the candy from his mouth and swirled it in his coffee before letting the hook catch on the edge of the mug. He took a hesitant sip and grinned.

“This is quite good Dean. I had not considered peppermint coffee. Would you like to try it?” He lifted the sweet from his coffee and offered it to Dean, dripping coffee on the table.

_ Yes, I’d like to see how it tastes on your lips. _ “Nah, I’m good thanks. Go ahead and open your present.”

The angel stuck his candy back in his coffee and ripped the paper off the package to reveal a rectangular blue bag. Then he stared at it.

“It’s a dopp kit. I know you don’t really need to shower or shave or whatever, but I remember when you were human you  _ liked _ showering. Just because you don’t  _ have  _ to shower doesn’t mean you can’t. Like eating.” He dragged in a breath. “I just wanted you to have the stuff in case you  _ wanted _ to shower. I got you all the same stuff I use cause I didn’t know what else you might like and...I kinda like the idea of you smelling like me.”  _  I like the idea of you smelling like me? What the hell man? Where’s your goddamn filter? _

Before he could blurt out any other incriminating information, his angel had covered his mouth with his own. The mixed flavors of coffee and mint and  _ Cas _ were being drawn onto his lips by Cas’ tongue. For a moment he was too stunned to move.  _ Cas is kissing me. _ By the time he started to lean into the kiss, Cas was pulling back.

“I apologize Dean. I was reading about showing gratitude and learned of thank you kisses. I should have understood that it was not appropriate given our relationship. I am sorry.” Cas looked like he was ready to bolt.

“NO! I mean, no, it’s good, fine. You don’t have to apologize Cas. It was nice.”  _ Nice? It was nice?  _ “I was just a little startled. You’ve never…” Dean trailed off as the Cas’ words replayed in his head.  _ Thank you kisses… he was just saying thank you for his gift. _ “You’re welcome. I hope you enjoy your shower. Let me know how it goes.” The last came out far lower and way more suggestive than he’d intended due to the direction of his thoughts and the lingering flavor of angel on his lips.  _  I have no idea how to reel this in. _

“I will. Also, do you think that it would be alright for me to start my “Christmas shopping” errands today? I am having trouble deciding on appropriate gifts, and I am hoping that exploring several options will help but I don’t wish to interfere with any plans that you might have.”

Dean took a deep breath. Angel for the save. “No plans today, so you’re good to go. I was thinking about maybe watching a movie after dinner though, I’ll even let you pick if you’ll join me.”

“I will be sure to return by seven. Thank you Dean.” With that, Cas swallowed the rest of his minty coffee down, grabbed his dopp kit and flapped off.

Dean slumped in his chair and thumped his head down to the table. He couldn’t decide if he wished that Cas had hung out longer or if he was glad that clusterfuck of conversation was over.  _ So, in the course of a single cup of coffee, you managed to a) tell Cas you’d like him to smell like you, b) ask him to report on his enjoyment of his shower, and c) proposition him for a movie date.  _ Dean thumped his head again.  _ Excellent moves Casanova, if it wasn’t for that kiss, I’d be worried that you scared the angel away from the bunker rather than him just wanting to go shopping. What happened to your charm, and when the hell did you decide you’re finally going to try to charm Cas? You’re grading me on my charm? You’re not going to freak out about kissing Cas? _

Dean’s self-examination was interrupted by the sound of coffee being poured. He hadn’t even heard Sam come into the kitchen. 

“Morning Sammy. Mind topping me off?”

“Good morning. What’s with the thumping?” He’d refilled Dean’s mug and was now gesturing with the mostly empty pot.

“Just going crazy enough to have a full on two-sided conversation with myself.”

“About?” Of course Sam wouldn’t leave it alone.

“Nothing important. Just said something that came out a little different than I intended. Grab your present before you sit down.”

As easily as that, Sam let the conversation go. Dean was too grateful to be suspicious. 

“Cas already got his?”

“Yup. He wants to go Christmas shopping today, so he got an early start.”

“Oh, that’s actually a really good idea if there’s no plans for today. You mind if I take the car?”

“Nope. Have at it. I’m just gonna hang out today. Maybe see if anything’s happening close to home that might merit looking into. Since you’re going out though, could you pick up some groceries? We’re getting a little low.”

“Will do. So, I can open this?”

Dean nodded. When the dopp kit, black for Sam, had been revealed, he started to explain. “I know you’ve got a bag for that stuff already, but it isn’t like having your stuff with you really. We still end up using the hotel shampoo and soap and stuff. I thought it would be nice to have all the comforts of home packed up and ready when we hit the road.”

“That’s awesome man.” He unzipped the bag and rolled it open to reveal the internal compartments. He explored the contents piece by piece. “Travel bottles of shampoo, conditioner body wash, and lotion.” He laid each item on the table as he identified it. “What’s in them?”

“Oh, I just filled them with your normal stuff, the rest of the bottles are in the store room.” Dean grinned. “I didn’t want to mess up your delicate spa routine.” Despite the teasing, Dean was grateful for Sam’s dorky attention to his gift as it let him set aside his internal dialogue.

Sam laughed and continued pulling things out of the kit. “Hair creme.” He blushed slightly and Dean just grinned wider.

“Hey, this is a really nice razor!” He laid out the new orange razor and several replaceable blades.

“Yeah, I was looking at stuff online and I found this site. You keep the handle, but the blades are disposable. I got a subscription so we don’t have to worry about running out.”

“We?”

“Yeah, I got a full kit like this for myself. A couple of the more practical gifts I did that with. Mine’s green though. The bag and the razor. So we can tell them apart.”

Sam nodded. “Maybe you could tell me if you do that? Cause I was hoping to steal a couple of ideas from you this month.”

“This whole thing’s like a giant gift to myself. Having you and Cas around all the time. Getting to have breakfast together, doing things like yesterday. It’s fun for me. I like seeing you guys happy for once, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it man, but I’m still getting you Christmas presents.”

“Do what you gotta. So far though, I’ve gotten three of everything.”

Sam nodded and went back to pulling things out of the bag. He laid shaving gel, a styptic pencil, and aftershave next to the razor. Then, face wash, deodorant, and a toothbrush with a clip-on protector.

“That’s antimicrobial,” Dean chimed in.

Sam opened and closed the protector once before setting it aside, it was joined by tooth paste. He moved to the next pocket and extracted a hair brush, comb, fingernail clippers, and toenail clippers. There was a shoe polish kit in a pocket of its own, and the final pocket contained an assortment of individual dose medicines. 

“I like how everything has a place to be in this bag and it’s gonna be so nice not to shave with hotel bar soap. The meds are a great idea too.”

Dean nodded enthusiastically. “I mean, we carry pain stuff, but allergies, colds, rotten gut? SOL if we can’t get to a store.”

“This is really awesome Dean. Thank you.”

“Glad you like it man.”

Sam repacked his kit and finished his coffee. “I’m gonna get dressed and head into town. I have no idea what to get either of you guys. I’m hoping that just wandering around will give me some ideas. Call me if you think of anything we need okay?”

“Will do. Have fun!” Just like that, Dean was alone with his coffee and his thoughts again.


	6. December 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam adds an extra touch to the bunker decorations. (Sam ships it!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr for @notfunnydean's SPN Advent Calendar Challenge 2018. Today's prompt was "Under the Mistletoe."
> 
> This is my first long fic, and I'm really new to sharing my writing. If you find any errors, or just have feedback, please let me know. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Unfortunately, I don't own the characters or the bunker, but I can dream.

**** Sam had a plan. He knew exactly what he wanted to get Dean for Christmas. He wanted Dean to have his angel. He’d been watching his brother stare longingly after the other man for years, but Dean had never made a move.

It seemed like things were looking up on that front though. When he’d come home from his shopping expedition, he’d gone looking for help with hauling the groceries. He’d found Dean and Cas sitting on the couch watching what looked like  _ The Bee Movie _ . They were close enough on the couch that their thighs were pressed together, there was a bowl of popcorn balanced on Cas’ lap, and Dean had his arm thrown across the back of the couch behind the angel, his hand dangling perilously close to the other man’s shoulder. When Sam had cleared his throat to make his presence known, Dean had merely reached over to grab a handful of popcorn and said “What’s up?” with his mouthful. There’d been no leap to put space between them, no hasty retreat of the arm, just a casual question. They’d paused the movie to help with the groceries and had gone right back to where they were without bothering to ask Sam to join them. He’d been too shocked to feel left out.

More importantly though, was the  _ kiss  _ he’d nearly interrupted yesterday. He’d turned into the kitchen to the sight of Cas  _ kissing _ Dean. He’d turned right back out of the kitchen. Sure, the angel had written it off as gratitude, probably because Dean had seemed shocked, but he’d heard his brother’s awkward acceptance of the kiss. 

When he’d finally entered the kitchen, Dean hadn’t been angry or embarrassed, he’d just seemed...confused. Sam was starting to think that his brother really didn’t know that the angel spent as many hours staring longingly at Dean as the hunter spent staring at Cas.  _ Dean really might not know that Cas loves him. _

Sam supposed he could understand it. Despite all of the things that the angel had done for Dean, he didn’t really  _ believe _ that anyone could want him for himself. Need an angel vessel? Ask Dean. Need the world saved? Ask Dean. Need a life partner? Ummmm… He’d said it in so many words. Who would want this life?

But Cas wasn’t some random girl. He knew about the things that go bump, he knew all of Dean’s faults, and he still stuck around, still wanted Dean. So, Sam would just give them a push,  _ or a hundred pushes! _ , in the right direction.

Which is why, at 4 o’clock in the morning on December 6th, Sam was hanging sprigs of mistletoe  all over the bunker. He was careful not to make them too obvious, nothing in direct line of site and definitely out of Dean’s reach. Hopefully, after a little prompting on Sam’s part, Cas would do the rest. 

He’d gotten all of the important doorways, Dean’s room, Cas’ room, kitchen, war room, rec room, the main bunker door, the door to the garage, and the shower room  _ mental note: avoid the shower room, I don’t need to see that _ , and then he’d gone a step further, tucking a sprig above the visor in the Impala, suspended one over the couch in the rec room, and last but certainly not least, hanging near the coffee pot. That one was the linchpin in his plan. 

He tucked the final sprig of mistletoe into his pocket and headed back to his room.

_ This is going to be fun. _

~~~~~

Dean couldn’t figure out what was going on. They were sitting at the table having breakfast. Well, he and Sam were eating cereal and Cas was just  _ enjoying _ his ( _ blessed _ ) coffee, but they were both being weird. Every time Dean looked at his angel, Cas would look away. Every time Dean moved in his chair, Sam would twitch. Dean wracked his mind for something that could make the two men so jumpy.

He got up to refill his coffee mug. He was just turning ask the guys what was up when Sam launched himself at Dean and flung his arms around his neck. He tugged Dean’s head into his chest, gave him a noogie, and the kissed the top of his head. Dean just stood there with his mouth hanging open.  _ What the fuck was that?!? _

Sam laughed loudly and pointed to a spot above Dean’s head. When Dean looked up, he noticed the small sprig of mistletoe dangling from the ceiling.  _ Well, that explains the twitching. _ “I’ve been waiting all morning to catch you!” Sam got out between belly laughs.

Dean pointed at Cas. “Were you in on this too?”

Cas shook his head. “I was not. I am aware of Frigga’s decree and the subsequent development of the mistletoe tradition, but I did not know that there was mistletoe in the bunker.”

Of course his brother was all over the mention of a Norse goddess. Dean just let it go. He stood quietly at the counter, sipping his coffee and listening to Cas explain how Loki had once made an arrow from mistletoe to kill Baldr, and how after Frigga had brought him back to life, she’d decreed that being under the mistletoe meant you should be kissed. Dean couldn’t help but grin at his brother’s rapt attention and his angel’s deadpan recounting of Gabriel’s motivation for the attempted murder (evidently Baldr was boning the girl Gabe wanted for himself). 

When the story and Sam’s questions trailed off, Dean gestured at the Advent crates. “Grab your gifts quick. I want to get in the shower.” The two men immediately rose from the table, Sam turned toward the crates immediately, but Cas brought his mug over to the coffee pot. He placed it carefully on the counter, gripped Dean’s shoulders, and pressed their lips together briefly. Dean sputtered when he pulled back and moved toward the crates. “Wha…” 

Cas just lifted his shoulder slightly, almost a shrug. “It is tradition Dean.”

Over Cas’ shoulder, Dean noticed Sam’s shit-eating grin. He pointed at his brother with his most threatening look.  _ Say something, I dare you. _ Sam just shook his head and held his hands up in defeat.  _ Not gonna say a word. _

His brother and his angel had unwrapped and were examining their gifts by the time Dean regained the ability to form sentences. He tuned in to their discussion of the edge on the blade section of the little wallet survival tool card he’d given them.

“When are they ever going to check your wallet for a knife? I mean, I know we can usually find something, but this is a much easier option even if the blade isn’t great it’s gotta beat a rusty nail don't you think?”

He didn’t wait for a response, just turned and escaped the kitchen. 

~~~~~

Dean was on edge all morning. It seemed like every time he walked into a room, his angel was waiting to press another kiss to his lips. When he’d gone into the laundry room, the angel had popped in, looked up, sighed, and popped out again without saying a word. Dean had looked up and seen the mistletoe free door and just laughed.  _ Cas was disappointed that he couldn’t kiss me! _

By early afternoon, Dean had relaxed and decided to simply enjoy his angel’s attention. Hell, he’d keep the mistletoe up all year if Cas would keep kissing him. He didn’t even bother to consider all of the reasons that thought was wrong. 

After dinner, Dean had just wandered around the bunker, Cas trailing after him, touring the various mistletoe locations. For a moment, he wished that he was brave enough to pull Cas in for a deeper kiss, but he shrugged it off. 

When he finally decided to go to bed, his angel surprised him by wrapping his ( _ huge _ ) hand around the back of his neck and tugging him closer for a lingering kiss. He’d gently nipped Dean’s bottom lip before pulling away. He’d whispered “Sweet dreams Dean” into the hunters ear before he disappeared.

_ Jesus, he’s trying to kill me. Just once I’d like the chance to kiss him back.  _ Dean turned into his room and closed his door.

Waiting on his pillow was a sprig of mistletoe and a note from Sam. 

  
  


_ Just in case you want to claim a kiss without a doorway convenient. -Sam _

 

_ Sweet dreams indeed…  _


	7. December 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel surprises the boys with a wintery gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr for @notfunnydean's SPN Advent Calendar Challenge 2018. Today's prompt was "Do you want to build a Snowman?".
> 
> This is my first long fic, and I'm really new to sharing my writing. If you find any errors, or just have feedback, please let me know. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Unfortunately, I don't own the characters or the bunker, but I can dream.

**** Cas had no need for sleep. His grace was more than sufficient to maintain his vessel without it. Nights in the bunker, however, were long, lonely things. There were only so many books to read, and after midnight, the available television programming was very limited. 

Watching over Dean had been his favorite way to pass the very early morning hours, even after the hunter had told him it was creepy. Given Dean’s propensity for saying one thing and doing another,  _ not lying _ , he was going to assume (or pretend) that this was just another one of those things the hunter couldn’t admit that he like. With the ban on “peeking” in place, even that pastime had become unavailable, leaving Cas to pace his bedroom. 

He’d spent the earlier portion of his night  reviewing what Sam had dubbed his “Mistletoe Mission.” When Sam had witnessed him kiss Dean for the third time, with no wry comments or sidelong glances, he’d sought the man out to ask him about his purpose for placing mistletoe in so many locations in a dwelling occupied only by three men. Sam’s response had been succinct. “It’s tradition. Besides, I don’t hear Dean complaining, and Cas, just so you know, there are eleven sprigs of mistletoe around. Happy hunting!” Sam had walked away whistling before Cas could question him further. 

He’d made use, multiple times in fact, of ten sprigs of mistletoe. Every time he’d pressed his lips to Dean’s, he’d wanted to step in, to wrap the man in his arms, to finally,  _ finally _ taste those lush lips the way he’d longed to for so many years. But Dean...Dean had given him no clue that such an act would be welcome. As Sam had said, he wasn’t complaining, had even made a point of visiting each decorated doorway after dinner, but he hadn’t once kissed Cas back. When Cas had let his control slip just a little, had held Dean while he offered his last kiss of the night, his hunter had looked… shocked. Cas had escaped quickly before Dean could tell him not to do it again. He considered his parting words,  _ sweet dreams _ , and decided that maybe sleep was one of the activities, like showering and eating, that he could try to enjoy as an angel, despite the fact that it was frequently quite abhorrent as a human. Surely, a day full of Dean’s lips would grant him “sweet dreams” instead of nightmares.

~~~~~

Dean had placed the day’s gifts in the crates.

He’d made a pot of coffee and drank three cups.

He’d blessed another round of ingredients and made apple cinnamon muffins and another pot of coffee.

When the heavenly aroma of baking apples had brought neither Sam nor Cas to the kitchen, he went for wake up calls. Sam had simply grunted at him. Dean assumed that meant he would be on his way.

Cas, on the other hand, had answered his door looking sleep rumpled in only his boxers and undershirt. His normally sexed up hair was looking downright  _ fucked out _ , and Dean could only stare for a moment. Then, he remembered the plan. Granted, this wasn’t precisely the way he had pictured it, but it was perfect nonetheless. He pulled the sprig of mistletoe from his pocket and held it over his angel’s head. He rested his free hand gently on Cas’ shoulder and leaned in slowly.  _ I do not want a fist to the face if he takes this wrong. _ He pressed his lips to the angels gently, slipping just the tip of his tongue out to taste.  _ Just one tiny taste _ . Then he pulled back. Cas looked... _ not even gonna try to figure out what that face means. _ Dean pulled away quickly. 

“I made muffins.”  _ Brilliant. _

He did  _ not  _ run back to the kitchen.

Cas, fully dressed though with absolutely no change to his hair, had beat him there and was standing under the mistletoe pouring himself a coffee. Dean came to an abrupt halt at the door. Sam stumbled into his back,  _ when did Sam even come out of his room! _ , sending Dean flailing into the kitchen.

Cas just raised his eyebrow. Sam grumbled. Dean waved both of them to the table. Neither man moved.

“Sit, or nobody gets muffins.” That had both men moving to the table. “Get your stuff first.”

Dean busied himself plating the muffins. When he had artfully arranged a perfect pyramid of appley goodness, he deposited it in the center of the table. He poured a mug of coffee for Sam, topped off his own, and joined the guys at the table. When he finally looked up to see why neither man had claimed a muffin, both Cas and Sam were studying a small green slip of paper.

“Whatzat?” He asked around a mouthful of muffin. Cas handed it to him and grabbed a muffin.

  
  


_ Cassie, May your days be merry and bright, and may all your Christmases be white! HO HO HO! _

“Gabriel? When did you see Gabriel?”

Cas finished chewing his bite of muffin before he answered. “I didn’t.” He took another bite of his muffin, closed his eyes and groaned.  _ Oh my Chuck, he seriously has to stop doing that...or never, EVER stop doing that. _

Sam cleared his throat. “The note was in Cas’ crate.”

_ Right, the note. _ “It wasn’t in there when I came to haul your sorry asses out of bed. Which reminds me,” he turned to Cas, “why were you sleeping? You’re not sick again are you? I mean your mojo’s not on the fritz or anything?”

“My mojo is fine,” Cas mumbled. He hadn’t bothered to swallow before speaking this time. Sam shot him Bitchface Number 5, generally reserved for Dean’s table manners. Cas swallowed. “My mojo is fine Dean. I was just sleeping to pass the time. I don’t have to sleep, but I can do it.”

“Like eating?”

“And like showering, yes.”

“Because you  _ like _ it?”

“I did not enjoy sleeping as a human. Nightmares are...not enjoyable.” Cas met Dean’s eyes for a moment then glanced away. “My dreams last night, however, were quite pleasant.” 

Either Dean was actually going crazy, or his angel was actually blushing.  _ Not half as “pleasant” as mine I bet. _ Dean grinned. “Well, alright then.”

“So...what do you think it means?” 

Dean turned to Sam.  _ Was his brother honestly asking Cas why he’d had “pleasant” dreams? _ A quick look at his angel indicated that he was equally bemused.

“The note. From Gabriel. What. Do. You. Think. It. Means?” Sam enunciated each word as if he thought his audience was particularly dense.

“Oh. Yes. I suspect that Gabriel has initiated some sort of spell to enhance my, our, holiday festivities. Given that it was left in my crate, I would assume he is aware of your gift giving Dean. However, as it is Gabriel, it is really anyone’s guess as to what form his ‘enhancement’ will take.”

Dean and Sam leaned back in their chairs. Cas grabbed another, his  _ third _ , muffin.

Dean watched him eat. Sam watched Dean watch him eat.

“I’m guessing, pretty safely I think, that it has something to do with snow.”

Dean cleared his throat.  _ Breakfast is becoming my most favorite time of day.  _ The situation in his pants also made it a little awkward to be sharing with his brother. “Open your presents. I’ll go check it out.”

Dean darted out of the kitchen, and out of the bunker. A blast of frigid air, and huge snowflakes,  greeted him when he opened the door. That quickly, he had both the answer  _ or at least part of it _ to Gabriel’s riddle and a solution to his other problem. He closed the door quickly.

When he got back to the kitchen, he was still shivering. Both men glanced briefly at him as he slid back into his chair and resumed their examination of today’s gift. They had spread the socks ( _ they’re practical! _ ), ignoring the plain black tube socks and the thick wool socks in favor of comparing the dress socks that Dean had chosen for them. He’d had fun with this one. Sam had a pair with green aliens, one with little army men, and one with bigfoot. He’d give Cas one with kittens, one with constellations, and a pair covered in little fuzzy bees. That last pair had been the hardest to find.

“Dean, these are awesome! Where did you even find them?” Sam was carefully refolding each pair of his socks.

“The internet is an awesome and scary place. So, do you guys wanna build a snowman? Looks like Gabe’s gifted us with a blizzard.”

Cas looked up from his bee socks. “A blizzard?”

“Well, maybe not a blizzard, but there’s definitely snow coming down. Looks like the perfect stuff for a snowman to me. Cas, you ever build one?”

“I have not. I would like to build a snowman. I have observed children playing in the snow, and they seemed to enjoy it.”

“It’ll be fun. Well, let’s get you suited up for winter wonderland out there. You might not feel the cold, but that outfit is NOT play-in-the-snow appropriate. I’ll get you some of my clothes.” Dean stood up. “You too Sasquatch. When’s the last time you played in the snow?” He didn’t wait for Sam’s answer as he headed toward the door. “Exactly. Let’s do this!”

Fifteen minutes later, they were standing just outside the bunker door, “properly” dressed for the weather down to the beanies pulled down over their ears and with Cas in a pair of Dean’s, well, everything he was wearing  _ except the socks _ was Dean’s.

“Dude, are you humming that song from  _ Frozen _ ?”

Dean hoped the cold hid his flushed cheeks. “What?! It was a good movie!”  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Close enough to our family recipe to count: https://www.tasteandtellblog.com/apple-cinnamon-muffins/


	8. December 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean loosens up on the "No Chick Flick" rule, of course angst ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr for @notfunnydean's SPN Advent Calendar Challenge 2018. Today's prompt was "Homemade Christmas Cards." I may have taken liberties.
> 
> This is my first long fic, and I'm really new to sharing my writing. If you find any errors, or just have feedback, please let me know. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Unfortunately, I don't own the characters or the bunker, but I can dream.

**** Dean had been kicking himself all night. They’d had fun for several hours out behind the bunker building not one, but three snowmen. Sam swore they looked just like them. Cas had just tilted his head. They’d had hot cocoa in the rec room when they’d come in to warm up, and had watched movies until dinner. Not once had Cas kissed him, even when he’d intentionally lingered under the mistletoe at each door.

_ I fucked up. He was right there under the mistletoe, and I missed my chance. _

Well, Dean was going to give himself another shot at this. By his count, there were ten places in the bunker where he could steal a kiss, not counting his wild card. He could make this work.

_ Still, I’m guessing a nice breakfast would also help if he’s actually miffed at me. _

Dean got to work. He laid out and blessed his ingredients, dug out their waffle iron, fried bacon, sliced strawberries, whipped heavy cream, and sent a group text ( _ safer than knocking _ ) announcing that breakfast would be served shortly. Cas popped in just as he was removing the first waffle from the iron. Dean quickly set it on a plate while Cas moved to pour himself some coffee.  _ Here goes nothing. _

Before Cas could pick up the coffee pot and before Dean could second guess himself, he’d tugged on his angel’s lapels to perfectly position him under the mistletoe, very obviously glanced up to notice it, and tugged Cas forward to merge their lips. For a second, neither man moved, they just stood there with their lips pressed together. Then Cas sighed and raised his hand to Dean’s neck. Dean groaned and stepped closer to his angel. Dean tentatively deepened the kiss, moving his mouth across Cas’. Cas’ tongue darted out to lick touch the bow of Dean’s mouth ever so slightly.

The smoke detector blared loudly.

Dean immediately released the grip he’d had on the trench and whipped around to find the waffle iron smoking profusely, because  _ duh _ grease burns when it overheats. He unplugged the appliance and reached for a wet cloth to clean off the burned grease. Cas was flapping a towel at the smoke alarm. When the noise had finally stopped, they turned to each other again. 

Cas raised his eyebrow. “Well, that escalated quickly.” Dean busted out laughing.

When Sam walked into the kitchen a few minutes later, the two were leaning against the counter sipping coffee, Dean still chuckling.

“What was all that noise?”

Dean started laughing again. Cas just shook his head. “There was a slight kitchen emergency, breakfast was not compromised. Coffee?”

Sam looked between his brother and the angel, shrugged and sat down at the table. Apparently it was too much for his brain to deal with before coffee. They may be always ready to go from sleep to fighting in the field, but here in the bunker, mornings were just slower.

Cas poured Sam a cup of coffee while Dean went back to re-greasing the waffle iron. While Dean ladled in the waffle batter, Cas set out the sliced berries and whipped cream and took out a tray for the bacon. When Dean removed the waffle from the iron to the waiting plate (the now cold waffle from early having been set aside for “freezer waffles”), Cas pulled the bacon from the warm oven, transferred it to the tray and set it on the table near Sam. Dean followed it with the plated waffle. 

Dean went back to the waffle iron, and Cas resumed his lean on the counter near Dean’s elbow. Every once in a while, they would make eye contact and grin. Sam just watched.

“You should eat before it gets cold.” Cas told Sam, breaking him out of his stupor. Sam shook his head and started topping his waffle. Dean smiled again as Cas slurped his coffee.

When the second waffle was plated, Dean handed it to Cas, who took it without comment, but with another smile, and sat down to eat. He prepared the rest of the waffle batter, four more in total, before sitting down to join them. He heaped on strawberries and whipped cream and dug in. 

By the time he’d cleared his plate, the other men had cleaned up the kitchen, the leftover waffles were safely wrapped and in the freezer, the waffle iron was cleaned, and most of the dishes had been washed up. Dean took his own plate to the sink and refilled his coffee cup before turning to the crates. He gestured the other two men to follow.

Each crate contained a small envelope, the size of a gift card, not visible from across the room.

Dean leaned back on the counter and waved his hand at the crates. “Go ahead.”

They each grabbed an envelope and tore it open. Then they just stood there, turning the cards (three each) over and over in their hands.

The cards were all the same, the front was black with curly pink writing and the back was light pink with black text.

 

_ Front: No Holds Barred. Back: This Card entitles the bearer to override the “No Chick Flick” and engage in open and honest communication about topics generally barred. Override shall remain in effect for no fewer than 30 minutes. Card must be surrendered upon use.  _ He’d scrawled his initials into the corner of each card.

They were small, but they’d taken a long time to get right. The stupid printer had a hard time with the light text, and then he’d screwed up cutting a few of them. It had taken him even longer to convince himself that this was a good idea. He’d cut both men off more times than he could count with the “No Chick Flick” line. He figured he could handle 180 minutes of  _ feelings _ in a year.

Dean cleared his throat causing both men to turn their attention to him. “I know you guys want to talk to me about feelings and shit sometimes. This will give you like a free pass.” He nodded his head firmly once.

“Holy shit Dean, I think this is the best present I’ve ever gotten.”

“I do have a request though. I mean, not a rule or anything, since they’re your gifts, but it would be nice if these could be one-on-one kind of things. And, you know, maybe confidential or whatever.” He’d never admit to having had (many) nightmares about his brother and his angel tag-teaming him rapid-fire for his deepest darkest secrets ever since he’d first thought about this.

“Of course Dean, that would make these conversations even more meaningful.” Leave it to Cas to take an alarming situation straight to terrifying with a single conciliatory statement.

“Can I claim a half hour this afternoon?” Sam was still staring at the cards in his hands, but he glanced up when he didn’t receive an answer.  _ Fucking puppy dog face. Not even fair. _

“Yup. Might as well start early. With any luck, you’ll have them all used up by the time Christmas rolls around.” Dean slurped the rest of his coffee and placed his mug in the sink. “I’m gonna grab a shower.” He grinned at Cas before he left the room.

~~~~~

Sam was pacing in the war room, there were so many things that he wanted to talk to Dean about. He’d wanted to drag him off immediately after breakfast, lay down all three of his cards and just let all his questions just flood out. Seeing the hesitation on his brother’s face had tempered the thought. He knew it had been hard for Dean to offer up this much, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to make him regret it on the first day. Besides, he needed to keep a couple of aces in his pocket for the next time something came up. He’d settled on a topic that had been eating at him for years, one that would further his goal of landing Dean his angel for Christmas. 

He’d sent Dean a text message asking him to meet here when he was ready. It wasn’t a room they normally relaxed in, but they’d spent enough time here to be comfortable. To be safe, he’d asked Cas to keep clear. The angel had promised to vacate the bunker for a couple of hours just to be safe. Neither man was looking to make this any harder on Dean that it would be already.

Still though, when Sam considered it, Dean had been different lately. Since he’d started this whole Christmas thing, he’d seemed much happier. He’d gotten better at accepting thanks, and hadn’t even freaked out when Cas had kissed him under the mistletoe.  _ Hell, I didn’t expect them to still be hanging after Dean found them all.  _ Sure, he was still pretty reticent when it came to sharing feelings, still awkward and self-doubting, but that was just the guy he was. Sam couldn’t remember him ever being different.

Sam’s musings were interrupted by Dean entering the room. He took two steps past the door, avoiding the mistletoe, stopped and shrugged.

“I don’t really know how to do this.” The tops of his ears went red.

Sam smiled at him. “Just come sit down with me. I promise, I’ll try to make it as painless as possible.”

“Riiight. I’m sure you will.” Despite the sarcasm, Dean slid into a seat at the table. 

Sam grabbed the bottle of whiskey and the two tumblers he’d brought in and set them on the table. He poured a small measure into each glass, passed one to Dean, and lifted his glass to toast his brother. They knocked glasses silently and each took a sip.

“Ok, I’ll start. Dean, I really want to thank you for putting together this advent calendar thing for Cas and me. I didn’t realize how much family stuff I was missing until I was disappointed that you weren’t up to share breakfast the other day. I mean, the gifts are awesome, but I’ve really enjoyed just hanging out with you guys.”

Dean smiled. “That’s what I was trying to tell you the other day man. That’s my gift to myself. I know you always thought I wanted this ‘apple pie life’ and maybe, for a while, I thought that too. But that isn’t us. We’re hunters. We’ll never leave this life. But, you know, that doesn’t mean we can’t still have the family part. Dad got that part  _ wrong _ . We’re a  _ family  _ of hunters. So, we hunt together, but we should get to have the good stuff too.”

Sam was quiet for a moment. “So, does that mean you’re giving up on the idea of settling down with somebody? You’re just going to keep … I don’t know… hooking up with bar skanks and drinking yourself painless?”

“I – No. No, that’s not what I want. I just realized that my apple pie life doesn’t look the same as it used to. I used to think I’d leave hunting, find this perfect girl, get a house in the ‘burbs...maybe have a couple kids. That’s what I thought I was supposed to want. But I kinda had that for a while. With Lisa, you know? And it was… nice I guess? Lisa was great, and I still miss Ben like crazy, but I just never felt… It just didn’t fit. The whole time I felt kinda like I was wearing a tie that was so damned tight I could barely breathe…” Dean trailed off and just sat there, staring at his hands.

“So, what does it look like now?”

“Huh?”

“You said your apple pie life doesn’t look like it used to. So… what does it look like now?”

“Now? Now instead of leaving the life, I picture somebody living it with me. Going on hunts with me. Hanging out and doing research. Celebrating good hunts. Patching each other up when shit gets rough. Fighting and making up. Somebody who understands that we” Dean gestured between the two of them “are a package deal. Somebody who knows me, all my past shit and the stupid things I do and my bad habits.  _ Knows _ me and still… wants to be with me.” He took another sip of his whiskey.

_ Somebody. He’d said somebody every time.  _ Sam hesitated for a second before he asked his next question. This was the most important one. The one that would test Dean’s honesty not only with Sam, but also with himself.

“Somebody like Cas?”

Dean looked up, looked directly into Sam’s eyes. “ _ Exactly _ like Cas.”

“Do we need to have the whole ‘but Cas is a guy’ conversation? Because let’s just be real for a minute. I’ve known since I was ten that you’re not the straightest arrow.”

Dean just huffed.

“I’ve seen you check out almost as many guys as women. Just saying.”

Dean grinned.

“And the eye fucking man. You have  _ got _ to stop with the eye fucking. It’s… It’s just not right for me to see that.”

“You want me to say it Sammy? I, Dean Winchester, am bisexual. Never thought I’d have to have a coming out party with my own little brother. Figured you just knew. When Dad was alive, I kinda kept it quiet, ‘cause he made it  _ painfully _ clear that no son of his was gonna be queer, but now….I’m just gonna be me.”

“And you have a crush on Cas?”

“No!” Dean was quick and emphatic with his answer. He looked down at his glass for a minute then threw back the rest of his drink. “No. I don’t have a crush on Cas. I don’t have the hots for him. I don’t want to bang him. Correction. I don’t  _ just _ want to bang him. I’m  _ in love _ with Cas. I’ve  _ been _ in love with Cas since…well, a really fucking long time. Cas is  _ it _ for me.”

“Then why – ” 

Dean cut him off. “But Cas is an Angel of the  _ freakin’ _ Lord. That has  _ got  _  to be a one way ticket to hell. And even if, by some Chuck granted crazy miracle, it wasn’t a one way train straight back to the pit where Cas found me, Cas… he could never love me like that, man. He’s  _ millenia _ old. I’m barely a blip on his radar. What would somebody as awesome and powerful as Cas want with a sorry human like me who’s spent most of his life ‘hooking up with bar skanks and drinking himself painless’?”

“Is that how you think he sees you? Because I gotta tell you man. I’ve seen Cas look at you, and that is NOT what his eyes are saying.”

“Cas sees the Righteous Man. A tool in the aversion of the next apocalypse. Maybe even a friend. But he doesn’t stick around.”

“He’s here for Christmas.”

“Yeah, because I made it a goddamned  _ rule _ . The minute this is over, he’ll be gone again, you’ll see. What’s he got to stay for?”

“Dean.”

“I think your half hour’s up Sammy.” Dean stood, leaned over the table, clapped Sam on the shoulder a couple times, and walked away.

_ This might be harder than I thought. _


	9. December 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean makes a decision and Gabriel stops in for breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr for @notfunnydean's SPN Advent Calendar Challenge 2018. Today's prompt was "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer."
> 
> This is my first long fic, and I'm really new to sharing my writing. If you find any errors, or just have feedback, please let me know. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Unfortunately, I don't own the characters or the bunker, but I can dream.

**** Dean decided to bake again. He’d enjoyed it last week; the kneading had been soothing. Today, he’d decided on a seeded “trail bread” he figured Sammy would like and that would probably be good for sandwiches. And cinnamon rolls, just regular ones, but with frosting this time because maybe they could see if Gabe wanted to come down for breakfast, and that guy had a sweet tooth bigger than most people’s mouths. He’d gotten dressed before coming to the kitchen so he’d be ready if Cas thought it was a solid plan.

He laid out his ingredients and said the blessing spell, then got down to it, starting with the bread, as it had two pretty long rise cycles. He measured and mixed first the dry ingredients, then the wet. The act of it, the smell of the ingredients, already had his mind calming from its normally flying pace. He let all of his random thoughts float away as he dug his fingers into the bowl, blending the sticky dough into a workable ball. He added the chopped raisins and sunflower seeds, thinking about making the next loaf with cranberries and almonds.

Kneading this bread was different than kneading the last dough. The raisins were little bumps in the dough, and the sunflower seeds sometimes poked through into the skin of his palms. His thoughts settled into the rhythm of his motions.

Turn, fold, press.  _ I love him. _

Turn, fold, press.  _ He’s an angel. _

Turn, fold, press.  _ He’s my best friend. _

Turn, fold, press.  _ But that kiss. _

Turn, fold, press.  _ I can pretend. _

Turn, fold, press.  _ Until he leaves. _

The last thought didn’t make him want to punch something like it usually did. It just left him feeling...empty. He gently covered the dough to rise. The more he got to spend time with Cas like he had yesterday, the less fine he felt when they were apart. Like for a few minutes, he had all the pieces of his heart in one place, then when he was gone again, he felt the loss more deeply for knowing what right should feel like.

_ I’ve been doing it for years.  _

_ Yeah dude, but not like this. This is so much more. _

_ I’ll take every second I can get.  _

_ It won’t be enough. You might not survive letting him go this time, knowing what it could be. _

“Fuck!” This whole personal honesty thing was exhausting. Sometimes he wished Cas was just a girl in a bar, somebody he could forget. Loving like this was like a deep sliver at the best of times, and like a gut wound when his angel was gone. He’d tried, he’d tried so hard, to push this down with the rest of the shit he couldn’t deal with, but every time the angel touched him, or held his gaze for a few seconds longer than what was considered normal, it was like a tug on that “profound bond.”

“Okay man, you’re talking to yourself and wallowing. Either enjoy what you’ve got while you’ve got it, or push that shit down and go back to the old you. Time to make a choice.”

Dean shook his head.  _ No contest.  _ He glanced up and adjusted his position so he was perfectly centered under the mistletoe.  _ If I’m going to be miserable anyway, I’d might as well make it worth it. _

“Cas? You wanna keep me company while I make breakfast?”

Cas appeared a few paces away. “Hello Dean.” 

Dean smiled at him. “Good morning Sunshine.” He glanced up, leading Cas to do the same. His angel’s lips quirked up at the corner.  _ Fuck, I’m so sunk. _

Cas crossed the space between them quickly. He gently threaded the fingers of one hand into the hair at the nape of Dean’s neck, and lightly gripped his hip with the other. He drew them together slowly, chest to chest. He brushed his lips over Dean’s ever so slightly, before pressing in more firmly. The kiss was tender, almost chaste, and over much too quickly, but he didn’t immediately draw back. Dean sighed out a breath and let his head tip forward to Cas’ shoulder bringing his arms up and around to link his hand at his angels’ lower back. Cas slid his hand from Dean’s hip to rest against the base of his spine, pressing the taller man even closer. After a moment, when Dean didn’t pull away, Cas let his jaw rest on soft hair.

Dean wished they could just stay like that, holding each other. Just being close, breathing the same air. If he could have one thing, for the rest of his life, one part of Cas, this would be it. He let himself linger in the quiet peace of it for a long minute before he pulled back slightly. Not pulling away, but wanting to be able to see those infinitely blue eyes. 

“You don’t have to stay, if you don’t want. I mean, there’s not really much you can do to help.”

“I have nowhere else I need to be. And I’ll always choose to be with you Dean, if I have a choice.” He kept his eyes trained directly on Dean’s. 

“Alright,”  _ Getting pretty deep in here. Time to lighten the mood. _ He pressed a quick playful peck on the tip of his angel’s nose. “Let’s get to it then.” He grinned at Cas before finally pulling away. 

“So, I was thinking, since your big brother gave us all a pretty awesome Christmas present yesterday, maybe we could return the favor by making him breakfast. Frosted cinnamon rolls? I mean, it’s not a fucking  _ climate change _ , but it’s what I got.”

“If it turns out half as well as those sticky rolls did, I think Gabriel will enjoy anything you make. It’s a very good idea Dean.”

Dean blushed.  _ Get a grip man, he just said you had a good idea, not exactly flowery prose. _

“You might as well grab some coffee then. I wasn’t kidding about there not being much else for you to do but watch.” He turned back to the counter, double checking the ingredients he had laid out against the recipe he’d printed.

~~~~~

Dean was different today. He’d noticed it immediately. His soul, so brightly lit lately, had seemed...restrained. As if all of the colors it had been showing off were being held in tight. They were still there,  _ home, safe, longing, love, _ but they were muted by a blanket of...resignation. 

He wasn’t happy and outgoing like he’d been the past few days either. He seemed relaxed enough, but he was quiet. He’d let Cas hold him.  _ How many times have I longed to hold him like that? To find peace for a minute not because we've survived something terrible, but just because we could. _ The gray had faded almost completely after that, but it was still there, dulling the otherwise contented emotions rolling through his hunter. 

He’d grabbed a cup of coffee and settled into a lean against the counter where he could comfortably watch Dean without being in the way. His hunter was quiet as he worked, and Cas enjoyed a peaceful hour, sipping his coffee while Dean prepared the dough for the cinnamon rolls, then punched down and kneaded another dough he had evidently started earlier in the morning. Dean glanced over at him and smiled. “Okay. We’ve got about a half hour before the next part. Wanna sit down for a few?” Cas just nodded. He poured Dean a fresh cup of coffee while the other man cleaned up a bit and washed his hands. 

They sat across from each other at the table, talking about nothing in particular and enjoying their coffee while the dough rose. Cas considered mentioning his concerns about Dean’s continued use of the blessing, he could taste its effect on the coffee again this morning, but discarded the idea. He really didn’t want to bring back the heaviness that had been plaguing the hunter earlier.  _ Besides, I haven’t even talked to Rowena. Maybe I’m worrying over nothing. _

He reclaimed his viewing spot while Dean finished the preparation of the massive cinnamon rolls. When they were safely in the oven, and he was starting on the frosting, he looked over at Cas.

“You wanna ‘call’ Gabe and let him know breakfast is almost ready? But maybe wake Sam first and let him know there might be company. Not sure if he’s ready for breakfast in his jammies with guests.”

“He eats breakfast in his pajamas with me here.”

Dean stopped what he was doing and turned to Cas fully. “You’re not a guest man. You’re family. This is your home too. If you want to show up in pajamas for breakfast you’re more than welcome to, but Gabriel is company. I’m guessing Sammy will want some real clothes on.”

Cas nodded, feeling pleasantly warmed by Dean’s designation of him as a member of their little family. Especially since he hadn’t claimed Cas as a brother. Gabe may be okay to invite for breakfast, but Cas got pajama privileges.  _ Maybe if I actually had pajamas…. _

~~~~~

Sam came to breakfast showered and fully dressed. Dean nudged Cas’ shoulder with his own, gestured with head toward his brother and mouthed “See?”  _ Made my point for me, thank you very much.  _

“I’m just gonna frost these, then we’ll be ready. You call Gabe yet?

“Gabriel, Dean has made fresh cinnamon rolls if you would like to join us for breakfast.”

Gabriel appeared in the seat next to Sam. “Dean  _ baked _ ?”

“What the hell are you wearing man?” Dean asked, pointing at the archangel’s sweater. It was green and had Santa’s sleigh, all nine reindeer included, appliqued on the front.

“This, is my favorite Christmas sweater. Watch.” Gabe pressed a spot on his chest and suddenly the kitchen was filled with the sound of jingle bells. Rudolph’s nose was blinking brightly. Tiny, tinny voices started singing, and Gabe sang along. “You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen, Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen. But do you recall the most famous reindeer of all?” Dean looked at Cas, slightly horrified, and Cas just shrugged.

Sam groped at the front of Gabriel’s sweater. “Nope. No. I haven’t had enough coffee yet for this.” The sweater kept singing, unaccompanied, for a moment while Gabriel tried to stare Sam down. 

Finally, he huffed and turned the sweater back off. “Fine. Grinch. Back to the important stuff. Dean baked cinnamon rolls? Is he possessed by the ghost of Betty Crocker or something?”

Dean flushed and turned to grab plates and silverware. 

“Dean is actually quite an accomplished home chef. Last week he made  maple pecan cinnamon rolls, and a two days ago it was apple cinnamon muffins, yesterday, Belgian waffles, all from scratch.”

Gabriel arched an eyebrow. “Huh. Should I be disappointed that you haven’t invited me down before now?”

“You should. They were all delicious. To be honest, I wouldn’t have invited you today, but Dean wanted to thank you for snow.”

Dean was blushing from the praise rather than embarrassment now.  _ Cas stuck up for me. And he likes my cooking! _ He plated the cinnamon rolls and gestured Cas to grab a seat at the table.

“Liked that did you? You’re in luck, it’s here all month. I had to make it look like a real weather pattern.” Dean placed plates in front of Sam and Gabriel while Cas refilled everyone’s coffee. Gabriel just waved him off, leaning over the plate and groaning.

“Dude, no porn sounds. It’s bad enough when those two do it.” Sam gave Dean a sidelong glance.

Gabriel looked like he wanted to say something but his mouth was full of cinnamon roll. Dean flipped Sam off, grabbed the other two plates and sat down. Cas joined him with their coffee.

The table was quiet for a bit while everyone started on the cinnamon rolls. Dean counted himself lucky that he didn’t get to watch Cas eat today. Being horny at the breakfast table with your brother present was awkward, with Gabriel it would be downright unpleasant. Even without the sight though, Cas’ occasional hums of pleasure had him squirming.

“Wait. You’re eating?” Gabriel was gesturing at Cas with a hunk of roll. A glob of frosting fell off, only to be reclaimed. “I thought you said all you could taste was molecules.”

“Recently, I’ve discovered that some foods can be quite delicious.”

“I’m guessing it doesn’t hurt that they’re prepared by the man, the myth, the legend, Dean Winchester.” Gabriel leaned toward Cas and gave him an exaggerated wink.

“Gabriel, if you can’t control yourself, I’m going to dissuade Dean the next time he’s considering inviting you to join us. Who knows what you’ll be missing out on.”

Gabriel mimed zipping his lips and hunched over his plate. Sam huffed out a laugh.

When breakfast was finished, Gabriel had somehow managed to consume three cinnamon rolls, and Dean had the loaf of trail bread in the oven, they migrated to the crates. 

“Ooh. I have to admit, I’m jealous. Cassie finally deigns to have a family Christmas and I’m not invited.” Gabriel pouted. His sad face had nothing on Sam’s puppy dog face. Dean wasn’t moved.

“I might feel bad about leaving you out if you hadn’t killed me a couple hundred times.” Truthfully, if Gabe had been living with them, he would have been included, but the archangel only really showed up when he wanted to.

“I thought we’d moved past that.”

“We did, right to the point where I invite you to breakfast.”

“I accept that. Those cinnamon rolls were spectacular. I’d take those over presents any day.”

Cas looked like he wanted to say something, but Dean gestured he and Sam toward the gifts. He spoke as they unwrapped. “I know you can get music on your phone or whatever, but we change phones all the time, and that takes data and stuff. And I know your iPod bit the dust Sam. And Cas has never had an mp3 player. These can connect to bluetooth speakers or headphones or whatever, and you can listen to the radio and audio books too.  Plus, you can expand them with memory cards. I kinda like that the little cards are like tapes, you know?” Dean blushed slightly. “Anyway, Sam, I’ve got an entire hard drive full of music you can dig through if you want. Cas I gave you a head start. Not all of it is approved for play in the Impala, but there’s some really good stuff on there.”

“Dean, did you make Cassie the modern version of a super jumbo mixtape?” Gabriel looked gleeful. Come to think of it, Sam kinda did too.

“What’s he gonna do with an empty mp3 player? I know he gets bored at night, I just thought I’d get him started, and we can add to it as he figures out what he likes.” Dean was full on blushing at this point, all the way down his throat.

“Thank you Dean. I did enjoy Zepp Traxx cassette. I’m eager to see what you’ve picked to put on here.”

“Wait, Dean’s given you a mixtape before? You’ve been holding out on me little brother.”

“Why do you keep calling it a mixtape? This isn’t a cassette.”

“Oh Cassie, come with me. We are going to have a chat about the human significance of music with a special emphasis on the children of the eighties.”

Cas looked confused, but smiled when he met Dean’s eyes. Dean didn’t know what to think about Gabriel’s pending lecture. He at once wanted to prevent it and eavesdrop.

“Thank you very much for the gift Dean. I look forward to adding to my musical collection with you in the future.” He was still smiling at Dean when Gabriel grabbed his wrist and they popped out of the room. 

Sam was shaking his head and grinning evilly at Dean.  _ I’m sure that gave him about a month’s worth of ammunition. _

“One word about mixtapes and I’ll take back my library. I’m sure you could dig up music on your own, but this has almost a full terabyte of carefully cataloged, properly tagged and titled music on it. Your choice man.” Dean waved the external hard drive in front of Sam’s face.

Sam didn’t turn down the evil of his grin, but he also didn’t mention the forbidden word. “Thanks Dean, for the new player and for the music. I’m sure it won’t mean nearly as much as a carefully curated playlist, but it will sure save me a shit ton of time.

Dean just growled as Sam sauntered out of the kitchen.

~~~~~

After ribbing him mercilessly about getting a mixtape from his  _ boyfriend _ for ten solid minutes, not letting Cas get a word in edgewise, Gabriel had finally settled in to deliver a relatively (for Gabriel) serious dissertation on music and humanity. 

“Music is everything Cassie. People identify with it on a soul deep level. A song  _ means _ something. And it’s a little bit different for each person, but the overall feeling, that’s something humans can share without too much explanation. There’s a song for everything. Bad break up? Check. Hurting from your divorce? Check? Had too much to drink and you can’t remember what happened? Check? Feeling lonely? There’s like a million for that. But Love? Cas, there’s a song for every shape and size of love. Falling in love for the first time, realizing you’re in love and you hadn’t before, still being in love years later, loving someone long distance, wanting to spend a million lifetimes with your love, loving someone and not knowing how they feel about you...if you can feel it, there’s a song for that.” Gabriel had paused for a deep breath. Cas hadn’t interrupted. 

“Some humans save music for the big things...celebrations, funerals, whatever...But for some people, and I’m guessing your hunter is one of them, music is like a running commentary on life for them. Certain songs are tied to specific memories, sure, but generally, it’s just the easiest way to share a feeling with somebody.

And theme songs? Don’t even get me started. Every couple in the world has a song they’ll happily tell you is ‘their song.’ Something that they bonded over, or that they agree perfectly describes their relationship. And not just romantic couples, sometimes a family has a song, or a song between a parent and a child, or best friends. I’d bet a hundred souls that if you asked Sam and Dean, separately, what their song was, they’d have an answer, and extra ten says they same the same thing.”

Cas finally broke in. “I don’t bet with souls Gabriel. And the significance of ‘mixtapes’?”

“It’s a whole thing. I mean really you’d actually have to have been a teenager in the 80’s or 90’s to understand, but it’s… It’s like writing a letter. The person making the mixtape has this idea in mind and they choose songs that can tell the right story. I mean, sure, some of them are just a collection of favorite songs copied to a single cassette. But the good ones, the ones that really gave the word mixtape some weight, were full of carefully selected songs, designed to invoke a certain mood. And if you gave a mixtape to someone, it meant something. You might give a mixtape full of empowering songs to your best friend if they were going through something, or happy songs to a friend who just lost their dog. And if you loved somebody? You definitely put together a collection of your favorite love songs for them. It’s the first thing most people think of when they hear the word. It became synonymous with couplehood. If you didn’t have a mixtape, you couldn’t be a real couple.

So if Deano gave you a mixtape, whatever was on it, it meant that he wanted to share something with you, something important to him. And today’s gift-bomb? Gigabytes of music that he  _ personally chose _ because he wanted you to hear it. It’s like a roadmap to his feelings. Can we listen?” Gabriel snapped his fingers and produced a speaker.

“I’m beginning to think this might be a very personal experience.”

“Cassie, you have the social aptitude of a toddler gorilla and the emotional maturity of a prepubescent girl. You’re about ten times more likely to misinterpret than you are to get it right.  _ Please _ Castiel, let me  _ help _ you.”

He looked so earnest, but Cas had been fooled by Gabriel more times than he could count. “I don’t trust you.”

“I promise not to tease you or Dean about it. I promise not to even tell anyone about it. You can wipe my memory if you want, I’ll let you in. Or you can bind me to it if you don’t trust me to even do that.”

“I’ll bind you.”

“Can you do it so I’m not busting at the seems to tell everyone? You know how I am with secrets.”

“Yes Gabriel. I’ll do it so you  _ want _ to keep the secret.”

Cas completed the spell quickly, then pulled the mp3 player from his pocket. He plugged in the speaker and powered on the device. There was a list of titles, but they didn’t look like song titles or artists. Gabriel was reading over his shoulder.

“Oh my Dad, I was right. This thing is like a whole box of mixtapes in a pocket sized package. Each of these is a separate playlist.” Cas tilted his head in confusion. “Like a mixtape in digital form. ‘Baby Approved Music’, gonna guess that’s classic rock. ‘Guilty Pleasures’, probably music he likes but doesn’t want anyone to know he likes. ‘Down and Dirty’, ooh, that one could be fun, songs that get Deano in the mood for sexy times. ‘Drinking in the Dark’, I’d avoid that one unless one of you is really depressed. Wait, we have a winner! ‘For Cas.’ Jackpot. If you ever wondered how he feels about you, you’re about to get your answer.”

The archangel navigated into the playlist and started reading through the songs. His grin got wider and wider. “Oh Cassie, that boy has got it  _ bad _ for you.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“It means he’s in love with you.”

“There’s no possible way you could ascertain that based on a list of song titles.”

“Yes, there really is.  _ I Think I’m in Love _ ,  _ One Call Away _ ,  _ You and I _ ,  _ I Love You More Than You Think, Stand By Me, Part of My Plan... _ He’s literally spelled it out for you. You know what? You’re never going to believe me. Wait right here.” Gabriel disappeared and reappeared a minute later with Sam in tow.

“Dammit Gabe, we could have walked. Hey Cas.”

“Okay, Sam has agreed to let you rifle through his brain for a second so you can pull out some social skills. Specifically, how to listen to the meaning of music instead of just hearing it. I’m going to eavesdrop to make sure he gets it right.”

“He said this won’t hurt. This won’t hurt right?”

“If you’re offering information willingly, and you aren’t blocked by a spell or something, it won’t hurt. Given the subject matter, it should be painless, though, if I’m understanding correctly, it may invoke memories.”

“And I’ll know what you see, I mean, so we can be sure Gabe isn’t showing you something that isn’t up here?” He tapped the side of his head.

“Yes. It will be like a very rapid movie.”

“Sounds good. Let’s do this.” Sam seemed excited by the prospect, though Cas couldn’t imagine why.

“Great.” That was Gabriel’s only warning before he’d grabbed the wrist of each man and started the show. Cas was glad to have an angel’s capacity for multi-channel processing, because he was suddenly flooded with information and  _ feelings _ . Every song Sam had ever heard, Cas was reliving with full audio and emotional input. He certainly hoped Sam was getting a tuned down version, or he’d be left with an incredible headache. In an instant, he had a new perspective on the songs he’d heard over his years on earth with the Winchesters. Gabriel released his wrist. He held onto Sam’s for a second longer, before releasing him too.

“Took care of that headache for you Samsquatch. Did I give Cassie an accurate lesson?”

“Fuck! That was… let’s save that for really important things okay?” He looked like he was ready to tip over. “But yeah, from what I actually saw it was dead on. Now I need to listen to like ten hours of happy songs, but I think you got the idea.” 

“Thank you Sam. To be honest, I’m feeling a bit like that myself. Might I suggest ‘I Believe In A Thing Called Love’?”

Sam chuckled. “I think you got it down. Happy listening I hope.” Sam stumbled out of the room.

“Given my new understanding, I’m going to have to insist that I listen to these on my own Gabriel.”

“Fine. At least I got a peek. But if you have any questions, or you just want to share the contents of that ‘Down and Dirty’ playlist, remember I’m still bound.”

“Thank you. Now go.”

“You owe me another breakfast little brother.”

“Goodbye Gabriel.”

“Ungrateful little wretch.” With that mumbled, Gabriel disappeared. 

Cas had never looked forward to a long lonely night in the bunker more.


	10. December 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas finally *talk* about *feelings*. 
> 
> Or the chapter that is essentially a giant Chick Flick moment. (SUPER FLUFF)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr for @notfunnydean's SPN Advent Calendar Challenge 2018. Today's prompt was "A Quiet Walk in the Snow."
> 
> This is my first long fic, and I'm really new to sharing my writing. If you find any errors, or just have feedback, please let me know. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Unfortunately, I don't own the characters or the bunker, but I can dream.

**** Dean had been up since five, not that he’d slept all that well. He hadn’t really thought about the implications of giving Cas such a personal gift with the archangel present.  _ Fucking Gabriel’s never gonna let me live this down.  _ Not that it would matter much, Cas didn’t really  _ get _ music. He was just too literal, and he kept most of his feelings on lock down a lot of the time. So, Gabe would know how just how far Dean had fallen, and his own angel would still believe Dean thought of him as a brother.  _ Fuck! _

He made three kinds of muffins trying to settle his nerves. Fresh fruit had been randomly appearing in the fridge despite the lack of recent supply runs, and Dean took that as a sign that Cas liked it when he cooked with it. He made blueberry muffins with a crumb topping, strawberry muffins with a rich vanilla cake base, and orange muffins. He’d poked holes in those while they were still warm and poured a mixture of orange juice and powdered sugar over the top. They were the ones he was looking forward to. 

He’d just managed to stuff half a muffin into his mouth when Cas walked into the kitchen, humming.  _ Cas is humming. _ Dean was pretty sure he’d never heard Cas hum.

The angel walked over to Dean and pressed a brief kiss to his lips like he did it every day. Just casual as you can be kissed him. Then he pulled back and _licked his fucking lips._ _I’m either dreaming or dead._ Dean tried to chew faster, but the _massive fucking bite_ he’d taken of the muffin refused to be swallowed. Cas just walked over to the muffins, looked over the selection, and picked up an orange one.

He paused his humming. “I like the glaze.” He hadn’t even taken a bite of muffin yet,  _ which means he licked the taste off those fucking lips after he kissed you. _ Dean stopped chewing and just stared at Cas. 

“Hmmm, good, but I liked it better from your mouth.”

_ What the fuck alternative dimension have I fallen into?! _ Dean swallowed and took another, smaller, bite of his muffin. They ate in near silence, broken only by Cas’ humming between bites.

He’d switched songs at some point. Dean hadn’t realized at first that he actually knew what Cas was humming, but when he switched from ‘You’ll Miss Me Someday” to ‘Loverman’ his brain kicked into gear. His angel was standing in his kitchen, eating his muffin, humming  _ love songs. _

Dean watched him eat and hum. Waited oh so patiently until the man had finished his muffin, thrown away the wrapper, and  _ licked the glaze off his fingers _ . Then he grabbed him. No warning, no gentle gripping of his neck, no obvious glances at the mistletoe that they were not standing under, just grabbed him and lunged at his mouth. 

It wasn’t a gentle kiss, not in anyway chaste. It was tangled tongues, and lip licking, and the occasional knock of teeth. It was desperate and passionate and hot and sloppy. It was  _ fucking perfect _ . When he started to get light headed, he pulled back to breathe. 

Cas rested his head against Dean’s, and his angel’s breathing was near as ragged as his own. Until he started fucking humming again.  _ Never Be the Same _ which Dean knew damned well was filed under Down and Dirty. 

_ Definitely fucking dead. _ “Am I dead?”

“No.”

“Am I dreaming?”

“No.”

“Huh.”

“Would you like to take a walk?”

“I need to get dressed.” The were still resting against each other, barely touching but for their heads.

“Hmmm.” 

“Will you open your present first? I’ll give you a hint, you can wear them on our walk.”

Cas pulled away, pressed light kiss to Dean’s lips and went to open his present. Dean didn’t turn to watch his reaction to the variety of jeans he’d been given. There was a mix of fresh new denim and thrift shop finds that Dean knew would probably be infinitely more comfortable.

“Meet back here in 10 minutes?” Cas asked. His arms were loaded down with his gifted apparel.

“Yeah.” Dean pulled him close for  _ just one more _ kiss, then gave his angel a little shove toward the door. “Go get changed.”

Cas grinned and walked out of the kitchen.

_ Holy fucking shit. I don’t even know what just happened. _

Nine minutes later, Dean walked back into the kitchen to find Cas making a new pot of coffee. Humming. He was wearing a pair of his new, thrifted, jeans and a faded Led Zeppelin t-shirt Dean had ‘loaned’ him way back when he was human. The boots he’d borrowed for their snow day were tied on his feet.

_ Guess I got his size right, cause damn do those jeans look nice on that fine ass. _ He locked down his internal urge to whistle, catcall, and/or grab.  _ No unprovoked groping asshole. _

There were two travel mugs, lids on, on the counter next to the coffee pot.

“I thought I would leave a fresh pot for Sam.”

“Shit. I should text him so he doesn’t wake up to an empty bunker and wonder what happened.”

“Yes.”

Dean dug his phone out of his own well worn jeans and texted his brother.  _ Going out with Cas for a while. There’s fresh coffee being made as I type. Go ahead and open your gift. Cause you asked, this is one that I tripled. Have a good morning. :) _

Cas grabbed the two mugs and hip-checked him gently. 

They added layers at the bunker door where they’d left their coats to dry after their snowman adventures. Dean fixed Cas’ collar and pulled his beanie down further over his ears. Cas kissed him on the nose.

Stepping out of the bunker into winter was still a little surreal. Sure, it snowed occasionally in Lebanon, but it rarely dipped below freezing for long enough for it to stick around in December. They generally wound up with really cold mud. Dean had to admit though, Gabriel had done a good job. It was sunny this morning, and every branch was draped in snow. The sun reflected of the millions of individual flakes with near blinding intensity. It looked like a metric fucktonne of glitter had been dumped on Kansas, and the effect was...kinda beautiful.

It was still. There was no breeze and the sky was cloudless and perfectly blue.The whole thing looked like a Christmas card.

Cas took Dean’s hand with his free hand and tugged him toward the path to the pond.

_ We hold hands now? We kiss and we hold hands while we walk in the snow. I don’t even know me anymore… _

They walked quietly, Cas humming softly and the sound of their boots on the wet snow the only break to the silence. The path twisted and wound to the little pond behind the bunker where another perfect Hallmark moment awaited them. The pond and little streams flowing in and out of it were not frozen over. The water looked dark against the surrounding snow. The sun was partially hidden by the tall trees.  _ Looks like the perfect spot for a Chick Flick moment to me. _

“You’re humming.”

“Yes, I have a lot of songs stuck in my head.”

“Good stuck or if I don’t get this out of my head i’m going to gouge out my ears stuck?”

“Good stuck.”

“So, you liked your gift then?”

“Yes, very much.”

_ Come on man, give me something here.  _ “Why?”

“Because, it made me feel. I didn’t really understand the attraction to music before. Gabriel and Sam had to teach me. I’ll let Sam fill you in on that. But it was...enlightening. Once I understood how to listen instead of just hearing, I heard all of the things you were telling me. I have never felt so many things in such a short amount of time, not even when I first became human. It was… overwhelming.”

_ Well, that was something, I’m just not sure if it was good. _ “But good overwhelming?”

“Yes Dean, ‘good overwhelming’.It was like drowning in love and family and hope and lust and a million other good things all at once. It was exhilarating. I felt closer to you than I have since I first rebuilt you. Maybe closer even because it wasn’t the atoms of you body, it was  _ you _ . Your thoughts and hopes. It was like you took years of things that you kept pushed down and just… gave them to me. With the hope that it would make me happy.” He paused for a second. “And it did Dean. I was joyous. Finally, after so many years, to really feel you. I loved it.”

_ Love me! _ “I wasn’t sure about some of the playlists. I was...nervous. I feel a little exposed I guess. I’m not used to that at all.”  _ I opened my heart man. Tell me you heard me. _

“I know. That made it all the more important. But I was _listening_ , and I realized, you weren’t saying anything new to me. Not really. All those things you said, you’ve been telling me for years with your actions, by sharing your music, by sharing experiences, by standing with me, even if it meant you were probably going to die.”

Dean shrugged.

“You were just more obvious about it this time, and I finally got the message.”

"Tell me. Tell me one song that sticks out.”

“‘I never knew what they meant when they said they’re free fallin’ while standing still.’” 

“That’s not exactly a happy song.”

“No. It was like a punch to the gut. But I realized. For years,  _ years _ , you’ve been showing me how much you love me, and I never understood. I’m smart, but I’m not the most emotionally aware person. And if I didn’t know that you loved me, if I walked around filled with doubt and fear, maybe you did too. I was never obvious about it either. And if it kept on like that, I’d lose you. And it would hurt in a way I’ve never really felt before. I don’t think I would just ‘be alright.’ I think it might kill me.

But there was another song. One that made me think that you might still have some hope that you’re feelings weren’t one sided. ‘You and me, we belong together. Just like a breath needs the air. I told if you if you called I would come running.’ I thought that maybe, if I was obvious too, then maybe you’d see too, all the ways I’ve been showing you over the years.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Ummm Cas, I’m getting a picture here, but I’m gonna need you to spell this out for me cause I can’t get this wrong.”

“I love you Dean.”

“Like a brother?”

“I hope that you never think of your brother when you hear ‘Never Gonna Be the Same’ Dean.”

“Fuck no!”

“I love you Dean. I’ve been  _ in _ love with you for years, maybe forever. Maybe I really was lost the moment I touched you in the pit. I didn’t know what is was at first, this need to be near you. I thought maybe it was my mission, or maybe that was just how you felt about friends. I had never experienced it. But the longer I spent time with you, and with Sam, and with Bobby and Charlie and Kevin...even Meg. The more I spent time with beings who were not angels, the more I learned about feeling. Not how to express myself obviously, but certainly about the difference between the love I feel for a brother and the love I feel for you. It’s like a physical ache, the need to touch you sometimes-”

“Iloveyou.” He’d interrupted, and it had come out rushed, but he’d gotten the words out. He took a breath and released it slowly. Tugged on their still linked hands to draw them closer together. “I want everything with you.”

“Yes. I want to  _ live _ with you, not just watch you live.”

“Please.”

“I want to kiss you good morning and good night. I want to fight side by side. I want to heal your physical wounds and hold you until your emotional pain fades away. I want to spend hours,  _ hours _ exploring every inch of you. I want to take you apart and put you back together a thousand times, until I’m more familiar with your body than mine. I want to hold hands and just breathe the same air.”

“Yeess.” Dean breathed the words against Cas’ mouth, and they were kissing again.

All of the urgency of the morning was gone. This was so much more than desperate need. It was love, and hope, and family, and relief, and years of worry gone, and joy. 

Cas pulled away first, and he laughed. Dean joined him.

“Bobby was right. We are idjits. We’ve wasted so much time.”

“No, we aren’t idiots. Nothing was wasted. We couldn’t have had this moment in the middle of an apocalypse or the angel war. Our enemies would have played us against each other both with our loyalty and our doubt. Although, I will admit, I’ve got quite a few years of physical frustration built up.”

Dean dropped his travel mug and squared himself up to the angel, pressing their bodies together from shoulder to thigh. Just being close to Cas was causing a situation in his pants that he was pretty sure would let the angel know how deeply he agreed with that statement.

“Better that built up that a decade of guilt for trying to replace an angel with a willing body.”  _ No sense in denying the truth.  _ “I felt like I was cheating Cas. Every time. And with Lisa? I spent half the time wishing she was you and the other half hating myself for wanting something that I could never have.”

“I wanted to spite them. Before I even understood what jealousy was, but I understood your need. I watched you with her. You seemed...content. I wanted to let you have that. I thought you deserved that.”

“I don’t want to rush into this Cas. I want to take my time to learn how to do this right.”

Cas tilted his head. Dean smiled.

“I love it when you do that.” He headbutted his angel gently. “I want to learn how to be part of a couple. If we’re going to be together like that, I want to do it right.”

“You’re doing great from my perspective, but I’m probably not a great judge.”

“Probably not. And I don’t want it to be a secret. I don’t want to hide anymore. I want to tell the world how lucky I am."

“Maybe we should start small.”

“Yeah, well, you know me. I’m probably gonna have a panic attack when somebody besides Sam figures it out. He knows. How I feel about you I mean. It’s what he used his first card on.”

“ I was surprised actually, when I kissed you in the kitchen. I didn’t know if you didn’t kiss me back because you didn’t want to or because your brother was there. But then you kissed me, and I concluded that it must have been your brother.”

“It wasn’t. I was just too surprised to react before you pulled away. Years of dreaming about our first kiss, and not once was it under fake mistletoe in our kitchen with Sam leading the charge.” Dean laughed softly. 

"It also explains his eagerness to let Gabriel dig around in his head. He saw it as a means to an end."

“He let Gabe do what!?”

“I told you, Sam can tell you about it. Right now, we should go back to the bunker. Your body temperature is decreasing.”

“One more kiss.”

“Fine. Why don’t you give me one of your dream first kisses then? We can pretend it really is our first kiss. This seems like the ideal setting for such a thing.”

Dean just laughed and tightened his grip on his angel. 

“We don’t need another first kiss Cas. Ours was just perfect.”


	11. December 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam thinks Dean is being compelled and calls on Gabe for help. Angst ensues, but Dean saves the day.
> 
> Brief homophobic language and child abuse.
> 
> People, I really suck at summaries, someone please help me!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr for @notfunnydean's SPN Advent Calendar Challenge 2018. Today's prompt was "Sledding Races."
> 
> This is my first long fic, and I'm really new to sharing my writing. If you find any errors, or just have feedback, please let me know. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Unfortunately, I don't own the characters or the bunker, but I can dream.

**** At two o’clock in the morning, Sam was pacing the rec room. He’d tried going to sleep, but the thoughts whirling around in his mind wouldn’t stop. Something was going on with Dean, and he couldn’t put his finger on it.

He’d barely seen his brother yesterday. He and Cas had been “out” when Sam had gotten up. When they’d finally returned, they were inseparable, constantly touching. He’d seen them holding hands in the kitchen, snuggled up on the couch when they’d watch a movie after lunch, and, they’d stared at each other all  through dinner.  _ Well, that’s normal at least. _

The kicker, though, had been when Dean had pulled the angel in for a hug and kiss ( _ on the fucking nose _ ) before he’d gone to bed. In the library, with Sam standing not five feet away. Then his brother had just waved at him, mumbled g’night, and left. Cas had just settled in with a book like this happened every night. 

Sam didn’t know what to make of it. He’d noticed that Dean had seemed  _ different _ lately, but this was...more.

“Gabe? I could use some help here.” He sat down and waited. He didn’t really expect the archangel to show, the man kept his own schedule.

Gabriel appeared, sprawled out on the couch. “What’s up Sammich?”

“Something’s wrong with Dean.”

“You mean the baking?”

“No. I mean, not  _ just _ the baking. He’s being really...affectionate.”

“Did he touch you in a no-no place Sammykins?”

“No! And don’t call me that. He’s just...Okay. If you tell anyone about this, I will fry you in holy oil. That includes teasing.”

“You’re no fun.” He grumbled, but nodded his acceptance.

“First, he demanded that we all be together for Christmas.”

“That doesn’t really seem like something to worry about Sam. Dean’s kinda got a thing about family.”

“For the whole month.”

“Oh.”

“Then, I put up mistletoe all around the bunker, and Cas kissed him. Like right on the mouth, in the kitchen, and I was  _ right there _ , and Dean just...blushed.”

“He didn’t freak out? Like, no ‘no homo’ speech?”

Sam shook his head. “And he gave us these cards that let us talk to him about feelings. When I used one to ask about Cas, he just puked it all out. Like how perfect he is, and he loves him, and he wants to be with him forever.”

“Huh. Not that it was really a secret, but he actually  _ said  _ that? Like  _ out loud? _ ”

“Yeah. Then, well, you know about the music thing.”

“I know more about the music thing than you do in fact.”

“Okay, so then, yesterday, they’re just gone in the morning. Dean says they went out, but he didn’t say where, and when the get back, they’re like conjoined twins, and all staring at each other and smiling.”

“They always stare at each other Sam. Been doing it for years.”

“No, I mean, no awkward looking away, no throat clearing, just smiling at each other.  _ Then _ , Dean gave him a hug and a kiss goodnight. A kiss on the nose. Right there,” Sam gestured vaguely at the rec room door, “and then he just went to bed. And I was  _ right here. _ ”

The two men just sat there, Gabriel, for once, looking honestly thoughtful, and Sam watching him anxiously.

“I think I might have an idea.”

When he didn’t go on, Sam leaned forward. “Well?!”

“I think he’s under a spell.”

“What? We haven’t had a witch case in...I don’t know, it’s been a long time.”

“No, not like an angry witch spell. Let me do some digging Samster, I’ll figure this out.”  Just like that, the archangel was gone. Sam sighed.  _ Might as well try to get some sleep then. _

_ ~~~~~ _

“What’s up with your hunter?” Cas didn’t even blink when Gabriel appeared in his room.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean the baking, and the blushing, and the smiling, and  _ the love songs _ ?” Gabriel was careful to mention only the things he’d witnessed personally. He had no urge to test how serious Sam was about his threat.

“Oh.”

“Oh? Like, oh, I was wondering when somebody would notice? Did you  _ spell _ your hunter Cassie?”

“No! However…”

“However what?”

“I think that Dean may be under the effect of a spell Rowena provided him.”

“And we’re not panicking about this because?”

“Because the spell is a blessing.”

“Castiel, just because this spell has some positive effects for you doesn’t mean you can call it a blessing.” Gabe had his best disappointed parent face on.

“Not that kind of a blessing. The spell is  _ actually _ a blessing.  _ Et quod absque necessitate vel addita est accipere quod sit causa damnum. Revelare cubito verissimo essentia rei. Manente animi sanctitate nutrire possit. _ Dean has been using it to remove impurities from food.”

“So it was more palatable for his angel.”

Cas nodded sheepishly in reply.

“And when did you start to think it might be working on more than the food?”

“The first day. Dean’s soul…”

“Cassie, you’re blushing like a schoolgirl. What  _ precisely _ did you see in Dean’s soul?”

“Dean’s soul is always bright, you know that as well as I do, but lately it’s been...more.”

“Details little brother.”

“It is like looking at the sun, intensely bright, complete with solar flares.”

“Soul uncensored, huh?” Cas’ blush deepened. “So, you’ve just been sitting back to enjoy the show? Not the least bit concerned about this?”

“I had considered contacting Rowena about it, but it didn’t seem to be causing any harm. I did look into the spell myself, and I don’t see how it could have any ill effect.”

“And when he stops using it?”

“What?”

“What do you think is going to happen when he stops using it? I think it’s pretty clear that the spell is working on Dean, not just the ingredients. What do you think is going to happen when he  _ stops _ blessing himself.”

“I didn’t think…”

“Obviously. Let’s do that now, shall we? So, the spell is designed to ‘reveal the true essence’ by taking out the added garbage. I’m gonna make an educated guess here and say that for a person,  _ like Dean _ , that means taking away a bunch of learned behaviors and ideas, maybe even some of what he learned before you rescued him in hell, leaving only his core attributes. Sound about right?” Castiel just nodded.

“So, what do you think might happen when all of those things start flooding back?”

Cas felt like a fledgling at this point. He’d  _ known _ Dean was behaving differently. He’d  _ seen _ the change in his soul. It had been foolish of him to think that it was fine just because he’d believed it was just an amplification of his normal self. Dean would never say all of those things he’d said by the pond if he hadn’t been under the effects of the spell.

“Cassie?”

“He’s going to regret it.”

“I don’t know if I’d put it that way.”

“No, you’re exactly right. He’s going to regret using the spell and he’s going to feel like he was tricked.”

“He’ll get over it.”

“You don’t know Dean very well, do you?” With that, Cas disappeared.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit.”

~~~~~

Gabriel appeared next to Sam on his bed. Sam scrambled back, but settled when he realized who was sitting next to him.

“Dude, not cool. It’s three o’clock in the morning.”

Gabriel just shrugged.

When he was awake enough to notice that Gabriel wasn’t his usual boisterous self, Sam sighed and slumped back against his headboard. “What did you do?”

“I asked Cassie about the spell.”

“And why does it look like somebody just killed your dog?”

“Now he thinks that Dean only loves him because of the spell.”

“So you know what the spell is?”

“Yeah, it’s a blessing Dean’s been using to make the food taste better.”

“Dean’s cooking is always good.”

“No, I mean, the ingredients. He’s been purifying the ingredients so Cas can enjoy them too.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh.”

“So it was working on Dean too?”

“Yup.”

“How? I mean, Dean’s been more open, but he’s still been  _ Dean _ .”

“Basically, the spell is designed to strip out anything that isn’t naturally there. For the ingredients, that means additives and chemicals. For Dean…”

“For Dean that means a lifetime of people telling him how to think and act.” 

“Yeah.” Sam slunk lower at Gabe’s answer.

“But doesn’t the fact that Dean hunted down such a spell just so Cas could enjoy breakfast  _ prove _ that this is more than the spell?”

“I don’t think Cassie took it that way.”

“So how did he take it?”

“Well, he basically decided that Dean was going to regret everything and he, ummm…”

“He what? What did he do Gabriel?”

“He skipped Earth.”

“He WHAT?!?”

“He flew away. Off the earth as far as I can tell.”

“Jesus Christ those two. It’s always something. So, Dean doesn’t know yet?”

“No?” Sam started to unbury himself from his blankets. “Ummm, whatcha doing?”

“I’m going to fix this, right now.”

“You know it’s like three o’clock in the morning, right?”

“I don’t fucking care. Those two have been dancing around this for years. I’m not going to let them fuck this up again. I can’t take another decade of their self-induced angst.”

Gabriel grinned as the hunter started toward the door. “Go get ’em.”

~~~~~

Dean’s door slammed open and he was instantly awake, gun ready, blinking wearily at the door.

“You sleep with a gun in the bunker?”

“You don’t? What’s with the door slamming anyway?” He glanced at the clock. “It’s 3:48 man, what the hell?”

“Have you been using a spell to make food taste better for Cas?”

Dean’s face went red. “How’d you-”

Sam waved him off. “It doesn’t matter how I found out. The spell, it’s affecting you.”

“No it isn’t. It’s just a blessing.”

“So, you normally go around kissing Cas? Cuddling on the couch is just an everyday thing? Being honest about your feelings without me having to drag it out of you, kicking and screaming, that’s just how you roll?”

“The card-”

“Yeah, the card let me ask, it didn’t say you’d just spill your guts out for me. Or that you’d tell me Dad fuckin’  _ beat _ the gay out of you.”

Dean was silent for a second. “I didn’t say that.”

“Not in so many words, but you implied it. But that isn’t the important thing.”

“What are you saying Sam? The spell’s making me do things against my will? ‘Cause even if it was affecting me, it couldn’t do that. I did my research before I used it.”

“So what does it do?”

“It just, takes out impurities.”

“So, if it was affecting you, what do you think it would take out.”

“I don’t know man, but I know it wouldn’t make me anything I’m not already. It’s not  _ designed _ that way. Pretty much the opposite.”

“How often have you used it?”

“Just in the morning mostly, for breakfast. So Cas could enjoy it too.” He blushed again.

“So, every day? It hasn’t had a chance to wear off?”

Dean shrugged.

“And if somebody asked Cas about the spell? What would he think?”

“Cas knows the spell can’t hurt anything.”

“Okay, but he wouldn’t worry about how you might react if you found out it was affecting you?”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, I thought so.”

“What aren’t you saying Sam?”

“I might have told Gabe I thought you were spelled.”

“And?”

“He might have asked Cas about it, and Cas might have freaked out a little.”

“Sam…”

“I know, okay? But I was worried! I didn’t know you cast the damned spell on  _ yourself. _ ”

“Oh my G- Neither did I okay? But it doesn’t matter if I did. It didn’t force me to do anything.”

“Well, I know that now.”

“So, if I’ve got this right, you had a panic attack and asked Gabe for help. Gabe charged in and dumped that on Cas, and Cas wigged out and what?”

“Ummm, Gabe says he flew away.”

“Fuck. Who knows what  _ he’s _ thinking if you thought I was being forced into something and Gabe  _ told _ him that. Jesus Christ.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Just go away Sam, I gotta figure out how to turn this shitshow around.”

“I really am sorry Dean.”

Dean just waved him off. When Sam had retreated, closing his door gently on the way out. Dean settled in against his headboard to think.

  * __Cas knows when I first used the spell.__


  * _Cas thinks the spell forces me to do things I normally wouldn’t._


  * _Yesterday, under the influence of the spell, I told Cas I love him._



 

_ Fuck. _

~~~~~

Dean waited until noon to be sure the spell had worn off. There had been no flash of light, no sudden wave of regret. Really, there’d been no big sign that it was gone, just a gradual feeling of guilt and a growing weight on his conscience. 

_ Well, shit. Being ‘normal’ me kinda sucks. _

He’d spent the intervening hours thinking about how the spell could affect him. It was written to remove all of the things in the food that didn’t belong. Things that were added either intentionally or just by the environment. He considered that. 

People were shaped by their environments, by the people around them. His dad had spent years teaching him how to be a hunter...how to be a man. How would the spell react to that? How much of who he was had been ‘added without need’ or had ‘caused damage?’

He sure as hell remembered the lesson Sam had mentioned. He didn’t remember what had started it, but he remembered every fucking blow of Dad's fists. “No son of mine is going to be a fucking faggot.” He’d had to make up a story about a hunt gone wrong to get Sam to stop asking questions.

There’d been other things too.  _ Men don’t cry. Men don’t show emotions. Hunters can’t love. Don’t show weakness, your enemies will use it against you. _

All of that had just been  _ gone _ , and he’d liked it. He hadn’t even realized what kind of weight he carried around normally. Having it all back...kinda sucked.

He could sort of see where Cas had gotten worried. After years,  _ years _ of knowing Dean, the last couple of days had probably been like getting shoved into a different reality. How was he supposed to predict what would happen when they were all back in the ‘real’ world?

_ He said he loved me. Said he’d been in love with me for years. _ Dean had to trust that Cas had meant that. _We’ve both been holding back, waiting on each other to say something._

He knew, soul deep knew, that he was in love with Cas. It wasn’t new. It sure as hell wasn’t because of some spell. Shit, he’d gone to Rowena for help in the first place just so the angel,  _ my angel _ , could actually enjoy the food he prepared. So he could  _ share _ that with him.

He could make this right. He just had to make Cas see that all of the things he’d said and done weren’t  _ just _ the spell.

~~~~~

_ Cas? You got your ears on? The spell wore off and I wanna talk to you. _

Dean’s prayer lit up in his mind, like they always did, but Cas slumped deeper into pile of dirt he was leaning on. He wasn’t ready to give up the tenuous thing they’d been building.

_ C’mon Cas. I need you here man. _

Cas sighed.  _ What is it they say? Time to face the music. _

He flew down to the kitchen, appearing invisibly, to observe his hunter. The man’s soul, bright as ever, showed the evidence of the now missing spell. All of the things he’d observed before the spell  _ joy, passion, guilt, longing, rejection, loss _ were there, now caged by tiny black threads,  _ fear.  _ He couldn’t leave Dean alone and  _ afraid. _

~~~~~

Dean was waiting in the kitchen, impatient. It wasn’t like Cas to make him wait, at least not recently. He was screwed if the angel was ignoring his prayers. He huffed out a relieved breath when the angel popped in a few paces away.

“Hello Dean.”

“Good morning, sunshine.” Cas just stood there.

_ Okay, looks like we’re doing this the hard way. _

“No good morning kiss?”

“I thought the spell wore off?”

Dean marched over to Cas, grabbed his lapels, and tugged him tight to his body. Every cell in his body was aching to look around to make sure no one was watching them, but he fought the urge. He pressed his lips against the angel’s for a brief kiss. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want a kiss.” He didn’t release his grip, just looked into those blue eyes.

“It doesn’t?”

“Nope.” He purposely popped his lips on the ‘p’ sound.

“But… I thought…” Cas let his words trail off.

“You thought what?”

“I thought you might regret-”

Dean cut him off. “I don’t regret anything. Not kissing you, not...what I said, not even casting the damned spell in the first place.”

“But you said-”

“The only thing I regret is wasting all that time. I know, there are a million things that could have gotten in the way before, but I still wish we’d have worked all this out a long time ago. Hell, Cas, the only reason I even cast that damned spell was ‘cause I wanted you to  _ want _ to have breakfast with me.”

“I always want to spend time with you Dean.” Cas wrapped his arms around his hunter’s waist.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t want me without the spell. I’m not good at all this emotional crap.”

“I told you yesterday Dean. I’ve loved you for a long time. Long before the spell. I just needed a hint that it was okay.”

“I might not be so...lovey dovey…”

“Dean, I  _ know _ you. You outside of the spell. Once I got through the translation, I could see how you show me every day. I don’t need you to be ‘lovey dovey’.” 

Dean could see the air quotes, though Cas didn’t move his arms.

“Okay then.”

“Okay.”

Dean leaned his face into his angel’s shoulder for a moment, taking a deep breath of his stormy scent and finding a hint of his own body wash. He grinned.  _ He showered again. _

“So, should we call the boys in for lunch? They’ve been pacing all morning, figuring they screwed everything up.”

“The boys?”

“Sam and Gabe. I think they’re in the library preparing a summoning or a binding spell or something.” Cas looked alarmed. He released Dean and took a step back.

“Gabriel. Get in here. Bring Sam.” Dean raised his eyebrow. The two men appeared in the kitchen doorway.

“Dammit Gabe, the bunker isn’t _ that _ big. We can  _ walk. _ ”

“You didn’t hear him Sammich, he sounded serious.”

The two men turned to face them, puppy dog looks firmly in place. Cas held firm. Dean just grinned.

“You will not, under any circumstances, use a binding spell on Dean.”

“Or Cas.” Dean piped in.

“Or me. Understood?”

The two nodded, appearing appropriately chastised.

“Good. Now, we’re going to have lunch, then we’re going to go out and enjoy the snow. That fresh stuff covered up our snow family.” Dean motioned them to the table and went to the fridge to dig out lunch meat. He’d been saving the trail bread for just such a lunch. At this point, just about everything in the house had been blessed several times over. Cas helped him prepare thick sandwiches.

Sam grinned at him when he sat down close to his angel.

“Not a word Sam, you’re still in the dog house.”

“Just glad to have you back Dean.” He said, before taking a huge bite of his sandwich.

“I’m going to miss that spell. This bread is amazing.” Gabriel mumbled around his own giant bite.

“I didn’t say I was retiring it for good. I just let it fade this morning to...for reasons.” Dean blushed.

Cas aimed a smile at him, but nobody called him on the blush.  _ Good thing or those asshats would be eating frozen pizza for a month. _

~~~~~

They’d finished lunch in comfortable silence, and Dean had given Sam and Cas their daily gifts. New boots today. Nobody commented on the sappy look he’d given Cas when he’d thanked Dean with a kiss. Nobody commented on them standing shoulder to shoulder while Sam tried his on.

Nobody commented when they met at the bunker door to get bundled up to go outside and Cas was dressed in his own jeans, his new boots, and two layers of Dean’s shirts.

When they’d clomped around to the back of the bunker, Dean blew out an amazed whistle. “This was  _ not _ here yesterday.” The backyard had been transformed. There was a large sloping hill, decorated with what appeared to be four packed lanes and a finish line.

“I thought we could try another winter tradition.” Gabriel said smugly.

Cas tilted his head, earning him a gentle headbutt from his hunter. 

“Sledding!!” Sam hollered, starting toward the hill. “I haven’t been sledding in forever!”

When they were all positioned on their sleds at the top of the hill, Gabriel raised his arm. “Race to the bottom. Go on three. One, two, THREE!”

“Last one to the bottom makes breakfast for a week!” He yelled as they slid down.

Dean laughed when he crossed the finish line last. “Rigged! I demand a rematch.”

He lost every time, but he still felt like he’d won when Cas pulled him off the ground and into a quick embrace. “I’m glad you lost Dean, I enjoy your muffins.” The lascivious grin on the angel’s face made it all worth it.


	12. December 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cuddly fluff with a side of mild smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr for @notfunnydean's SPN Advent Calendar Challenge 2018. Today's prompt was "Staying in bed cuddling all day."
> 
> This is my first long fic, and I'm really new to sharing my writing. If you find any errors, or just have feedback, please let me know. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Unfortunately, I don't own the characters or the bunker, but I can dream.

**** After the soul searching and angst of the day before, Dean really didn’t want to get out of bed. He was warm and comfortable just where he was, but he was lonely.  _ Would just stay here all day if Cas was here. _

He groaned to himself and rolled out of bed. He pulled on some socks and made his way to the kitchen, stopping briefly in the bathroom. 

He started the coffee pot and yawned. “Cas?”

The angel appeared at his side, and Dean snuggled into him, burying his face into Cas’ neck. “G’morning sunshine.” He mumbled.

Cas kissed the top of his head and wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist. “Hello Dean. Still tired?”

“Yeah, but I wanted to make breakfast for you and Sammy, and we gotta do presents, and…” he trailed off for a minute. “I missed you.” He could feel Cas’ lips form a smile where they rested against his head.

“Are there still muffins from the other morning?   
  
“Yeah, not the orange ones, but the others.”

“Then why don’t you skip making breakfast?”

“Mmkay.” Dean didn’t move. He was warm and comfortable and he had his angel.  _ Life is good. _

The coffee pot gurgled and Cas lifted his head. He tugged Dean over to the table and settled him in, then brought him a cup of coffee.

“I’ll go get your brother.”

Dean just nodded and wrapped his hands around his coffee.

~~~~~

Dean was looking slightly more awake when Cas returned to the kitchen, a bleary eyed Sam in his wake. Cas waved Sam to the table, poured him a mug of coffee, then plated a half dozen muffins and set them in the middle of the table. He poured his own coffee and sat down next to Dean. 

Sam yawned. “Why are we up?”

Dean gestured vaguely at the crates. “Presents.”

Sam grunted and slurped his coffee. Cas retrieved the envelopes from the crates. He placed one in front of Sam and reclaimed his spot next to Dean. 

Dean leaned over in his chair until his weight was pressed into Cas’ side, then he flopped his head onto the angel’s shoulder. Cas looked down at him and grinned.  _ He’s adorable when he’s sleepy. Not that I’d tell him that. _

“Open ‘em so I can go back to bed.”

They tore open the envelopes and looked at the contents. Much like the cards, they were printed and signed.  _ Activity Voucher: Present this certificate, and I, Dean Winchester, will participate in the activity of your choice without complaint, teasing, or negative commentary. _

He looked up at Sam who was still studying his voucher, seemingly without comprehension.

“I think you both need to go back to bed.”

Sam looked up at Cas, as if he’d forgotten the angel was there until he’d spoken. “Yeah, I didn’t really sleep yesterday.” He took a swig of his coffee. “Thank you for this Dean. I’m going to save it for something really awesome.”

Dean just grunted at him and snuggled further into Cas.

Sam picked up his coffee and wandered back out of the kitchen. 

“Dean?”

“Hmmm?”

“Can I use mine today?”

“It’s your present Cas. You can use it whenever. Whaddya have in mind?”

“I’ll show you.” He pried the coffee out of his hunter’s grip and set it in the sink, then took Dean’s hand in his own. In a blink, they were in the hunter’s room, settled on this bed.

“Cas?” Dean sounded hesitant.

“I just want to cuddle. I’ve never done that.”

“I don’t cuddle.”

“Because you don’t like it or because men don’t cuddle?”

Dean just looked at him for a second, then seemed to notice what he was wearing.

“Those are mine.”

“I took the liberty of borrowing pajama pants, yes. I am under the impression that dress slacks and a button down are not the best apparel for cuddling.”

“Come here you dork, you don’t have to use your voucher for this.”

“But I am asking you to participate in an activity that you wouldn’t normally do.”

“‘Cause I never had somebody I  _ wanted _ to cuddle with.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, now, come here.”

Dean had leaned back into the pillows, and gestured the angel to join him.

Cas relaxed back next to him and just...laid still. “I’m not really sure…” he started.

Dean laughed. “Just relax.” He lifted the arm nearest him and snuggled into the angel’s side like he’d done in the kitchen. He laid his head against the angel’s chest and brought the arm back down around his own shoulder before wedging his bottom arm under Cas’ shoulder and wrapping his top arm across the angel’s chest. “Like that. You just kinda hold onto each other.” 

Cas hesitantly brought his free arm up to rest along the Dean’s. Dean responded by burrowing deeper into the angel’s side and sighing. 

“Yeah, like that.”

Cas smiled and relaxed further. “I like this.”

“Me too.” Cas heard him mumble into his chest. “Now go to sleep.”

“I’ll watch over you.”

He felt his hunter smile.

~~~~~

At some point, his angel had decided to sleep. Dean knew it was a decision because Cas didn’t just fall asleep unless something was horribly wrong.

Also at some point, probably after Cas had fallen asleep, they had reversed positions. Cas was now wrapped tightly around Dean’s torso, one arm bent between them, the other clutching at the collar of Dean’s shirt. He had a leg thrown over Dean, his crotch pressed firmly into his hip, and his thigh a heavy weight on his groin. His body was reacting to the pressure and closeness, and Dean wasn’t really sure how to respond. He groaned silently.

_ This.  _ This was exactly what he’d been missing this morning, but he was pretty sure it was  _ not _ what Cas had meant when he’d asked to cuddle. Dean tried to move his hips a little so his  _ really inappropriately hard _ dick wasn’t molesting his angel while he slept. Cas just moaned a little and tightened his grip. Dean froze.

“Nooo. I like it.” He snuggled himself tighter to Dean’s side. 

Dean could feel it now.  _ Fuck. Cas is hard _ . 

“Yeah, I can tell, but I’m liking it a little  _ too _ much man.”

“Dean?” His angel lifted his head to meet his eyes. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Yes.” He groaned. Cas started to shift away but Dean tightened his arm. “No! I mean, not bad uncomfortable, just…” He trailed off and gestured at his crotch. “I don’t know man, we haven’t talked about this.”

“You are referring to your erection.” Cas reported it like the weather.

“Yeah.”

Cas ground his crotch into Dean’s hip. “I  _ like _ it.” Cas’ voice had gone a little gravely, and Dean  _ really _ liked it. His dick twitched in agreement.

“Dude, you’re an angel.”

“I fail to see what that has to do with this.” Cas was steadily grinding on him now, and his mouth was practically touching Dean’s ear.  _ That fucking voice. _

Dean thrust his hips a little for friction. “Fuuuck. We’re going straight to hell.”

Cas jerked his head up. “What?!”

“I’m pretty sure my thoughts about you have earned me a spot on the naughty list. This? This has got to earn me a one way ticket downstairs.”

Cas relaxed back into his previous position. “Dean.” He nipped at Dean’s earlobe. “First of all, no. Nobody, upstairs or down, actually cares who you sleep with, even if it’s me.” He paused to place a teasing kiss to the joint of Dean’s neck and shoulder. “Second, do you really think I’d let you do something that would take you away from me?” He bit down where he’d kissed. Dean groaned and thrust into his angel’s thigh again.

“Hadn’t thought about it that way.”

Cas shoved himself up and moved his leg further over the hunter, straddling Dean, his arms bracketing his head. “You worry too much.” He ground down into his hunter, their dicks now perfectly positioned to ride side by side. Dean gripped his angel by the hips, trying to keep him still.

“Fuck, Cas, I thought we were going to go slow.”

“ _ You _ said that.  _ I  _ said I was going to spend hours taking you apart.” He rocked down into Dean again. “But we can compromise. I’ll let you keep your pants on, and you can pretend it isn’t sex if I don’t see your dick.” He was back to the steady grind, and Dean could feel a wet spot forming in his boxer briefs.

“That’s not what I meant.” He was matching Cas’ movements now, clinging to his hips and his self-control.

“Please, Dean,  _ please _ . I  _ need _ you.”

He was lost. His fucking angel was  _ begging _ him. He thrust up harder and moved a hand from Cas’ hip to the back of his head. He tugged his angel down into a dirty kiss.

“I’m here. Fuck, Cas, I’m right  _ here. _ ” And he was. He was here,  _ humping  _ up into his angel,  _ grinding  _ their hard cocks together,  _ panting _ against his lips. It was dirty and oh so  _ perfect _ . He’d wanted Cas forever, dreamed of this a hundred times. He was never going last. He kissed Cas’ neck, his jaw, everywhere. He shot his hand back down, gaining a firm hold on Cas’ ass and bent his knees for leverage. He pulled his angel tighter against his pelvis, their movements near frantic. 

Then, Cas was losing his rhythm; he jerked his head back, tightly closed eyes aimed at the ceiling, and he was moaning. “Fuck, Dean,  _ fuuuck _ .”

Dean could feel Cas’ dick throb as he came. That, and the sound of his angel cursing and  _ moaning my name _ . He couldn’t  _ not _ groan out his angel’s name in return.  _ Had  _ to bite down on his neck.  _ Fucking needed _ to tip over the edge right along with him.

They relaxed slowly back into each other, lips joined in slow, lazy kisses between ragged breaths. Cas finally dropped his head into the crook of Dean’s neck.

Dean chuckled. “That was  _ not _ a compromise.”

Cas huffed out a matching laugh against Dean’s neck. “It certainly wasn’t  _ slow _ .”

“Best sex I’ve had in my life.” Dean turned the angel’s head for a kiss.

“Me too.” The angel’s grin turned a little wicked. “So far.”


	13. December 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic fluff studded with brief angst and topped off with highly technical wing/grooming kink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr for @notfunnydean's SPN Advent Calendar Challenge 2018. Today's prompt was "Will you be my snow angel." This kinda got away from me a little...
> 
> This is my first long fic, and I'm really new to sharing my writing. If you find any errors, or just have feedback, please let me know. I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Unfortunately, I don't own the characters or the bunker, but I can dream.

**** Waking up from a nap with an angel was kinda hot, he’d learned yesterday. Waking up after sleeping for a full eight hours was like, very grossly hot in another way. Cas was like a furnace, and between his body heat and the blanket, Dean was roasting. Every part of him felt sweaty. And he had to pee, like immediately, but he couldn’t wiggle his way out of bed.

“Cas, c’mon man.” He gave his angel a little shove. Cas just whimpered and tightened his hold, pressing down more firmly on his bladder, and the urge to pee became urgent.

“Seriously, dude. I  _ have _ to get up.”

Cas grumbled, but he rolled over.

Dean leaped out of bed with a sigh of relief. The cold air on his sweaty skin was doing no favors to his bladder situation, so he rushed to the bathroom. He detoured to the kitchen for coffee on his way back to his room, deciding his angel might be more agreeable to morning after his first hit of caffeine. He waited, mostly patiently, for the coffee to brew.  

By the time the pot was three quarters full, he was freezing. The warmth of both his bed and his angel had worn off, and the floor felt like ice under his bare feet. He was debating breaking his own rule about interrupting the coffee brew cycle when Sam wandered in. 

“G’’morning.”

“Morning Sammy.”

“Where’s your robe? ‘S cold in here.”

“I just had to pee, wanted to grab some coffee before I went back to bed.”

Sam arched his eyebrow and glanced obviously at the two mugs laid out before the coffee pot. 

“I...uh, Cas…” He spluttered. 

Sam started laughing.”I’m just giving you shit man. Way to step up and be a good boyfriend. Everyone deserves coffee in bed now and then.”

Dean glared at him as the coffee pot gurgled indicating the brew was finishing up.  Dean filled the two mugs, returned the pot to its home, and pointed at Sam. “You shut up.”

Sam’s laughter followed him out of the kitchen.

Cas was literally buried in the pillows and blanket when he got back to the room. When Dean tapped his shoulder, he groaned and pulled the blanket up over his head.

“I brought coffee. I had to face down Sam to get it, the least you can do is sit up.”

“Can’t we just stay in bed?” Dean was pretty sure that’s what Cas had said, but given that he hadn’t moved from under the pillows, it could really have been anything.

“Cas, we spent all day yesterday in bed. We only got up to eat. If we do that every day, we’re going to turn into fat slobs. Well, I will, you can probably grace yourself all hot again.”

Cas’ shoulders were shaking, and it sounded like he was laughing. He finally rolled over. Dean joined him on the bed, propped up against the headboard. He handed Cas a mug when the angel finally sat up.

They sat there for a quiet minute, enjoying their coffee. 

“So, what do you have planned for today Santa?”

“I was thinking of another snow tradition maybe, I don’t know.”

“I like the snow. Were you planning on breakfast? I owe Gabriel breakfast for teaching me about music.”

“First, I think Gabe negated that when he got you all freaked out about the spell. Serves him right if he never eats my cooking again after getting you all worked up. Jesus, either one of them could have talked to  _ me _ about it first.”

“I’m guessing it would be bad form to mention that  _ talking _ has not generally been a strength of yours until very recently?”

“You guess correctly. Second, Sam’s on my shit list for calling you my boyfriend all smarmy like this morning.”

“Am I your boyfriend?”

“Ummm, yes? I mean, I kinda assumed, after yesterday, I don’t know! Do you want to be?”

“Hmmm, I would say, yes. So, why does that merit wrath toward Sam?”

“Because, he  _ teased _ me about it before I even got to ask you myself.”

“Dean, despite the lack of sexual physical contact, I’m pretty sure we’ve been romantically involved for years, he’s pretty late to be teasing you about it. He could have started teasing you when we started staring at each other for extended periods of time. Eye fucking I believe he calls it.”

Dean groaned. Hearing his angel swear had an alarmingly  _ stimulating _ effect on his dick.

“Fine. I can’t really argue that one. Just don’t tell Sam. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Gabriel’s been teasing me for years. I never bothered to contradict him because I couldn’t argue that I didn’t have a romantic interest in you. Usually, I just ignore him until he gets bored.”

“Good plan. I’ve got a better one. Let’s go engage in gross amounts of PDA until he gets scared and runs away.”

Cas grinned. “I like the way you think...boyfriend.”

“Ugh, that just sounds wrong. Maybe don’t call me that as a nickname. Save it for introductions, like ‘This is my boyfriend, Dean.’ But only when we’re not under cover or on a case or something okay?”

“What should I call you? Honey?”

“I suppose, or hon could work, although, I’ve always kinda liked the way you say my name.” Dean blushed.

“That...explains a lot.”

“What!?”

“Nothing, it’s just...your soul sometimes.”

Dean lifted his eyebrow.

“I know you don’t like it when I get in your head, so I don’t do that anymore, but sometimes, your soul is just so...I  _ really _ like looking at your soul. And sometimes, it does this thing, like kinda flares up for a second, red sometimes, but sometimes gold or silver or purple…”

“Get to the point babe.”

Cas preened at the diminutive. “I could never figure out what that meant. The color was never predictable, which was confusing, and I couldn’t relate it to anything in particular, but I’m beginning to understand it was  _ lust _ . All of those, among other things, are colors of lust.”

Dean flushed. “I thought I kept that under wraps.”

“Dean, I didn’t know what it meant until  _ after _ we’d had sexual contact. All those colors have multiple meanings. Red can mean anger or anxiety, gold can mean divine protection, silver, growth, purple can mean healing. None of them are out of place in your soul, in fact they’re pretty common to see in you, it was the  _ shape _ of them that caught my attention. Usually your soul is...I don’t know how to describe it really...like a vaguely you shaped blob of color. Sometimes, when you’re feeling something really strongly, it takes on a more definitive edge, this was like...well, like when you throw a log into a fire and it sends up sparks for a second before the flames settle back down. It was always too fast for me to examine.”

“That actually sounds kinda awesome.”

“It is, it really is.”

~~~~~

Dean had finally dragged Cas out of bed with the promise of pancakes. They’d agreed that Cas could bless the ingredients, though Dean had offered, because Cas’ grace was unlikely to be directly affected by the spell.

“It’s not that I don’t love how open you are when you’re bespelled Dean, it’s just...I’d rather know you’re sharing things that you  _ want  _ to share.”

Dean had tried to explain that there was no compulsion, just no fear of side effects, but the angel had been insistent. Dean had yielded.

He’d dug out all of the ingredients and while Cas did the blessing, he went to find Sam. He wanted to be sure his little brother got his fill of the Dean and Cas show so he’d stop the teasing. He located him in the library, and told him they’d be serving in ten minutes.

Brother inbound, he rejoined Cas in the kitchen. It seemed his angel really did like to watch him cook. “You got a thing for me in the kitchen Cas?”

His angel laughed and leaned over to brush the flour off his shirt. “I have a ‘thing’ for you looking happy Dean, and you always look happy when you’re cooking breakfast for us.”

Dean flushed a little. “I like feeding my family, making sure everyone is taken care of. Food is important.” He continued mixing the batter, then greased the skillet.

“Breaking bread together has been a sign of solidarity since the dawn of mankind. It is a very important social act.” 

“You make it sound so formal.”

“It can be, but it doesn’t have to be. When food was scarce, sharing a meal was definitely a sign of trust or intimacy...family. But even in good times, sharing abundance was reserved for friends, or developing trust. Making a meal for someone is a deeply meaningful act Dean.”

Sam came in at the tail end of his sentence. “Whoa. I don’t really think I need to hear about ‘deeply meaningful acts.’”

Dean shot Cas a wink and leaned in for a kiss. His angel grinned and wrapped his hands behind his neck, pulling him close. It was meant to be a chaste kiss, but when their lips touched, the rest of the room kind of...faded from Dean’s mind. They might have gotten a little carried away. Tongues were definitely involved. 

“Oh my God you guys! Seriously, I was kidding. I don’t need to see you  _ do it _ ! Gabe! Gabe, there’s porn in the kitchen!”

Gabe popped into the chair next to Sam. “Where?”

Sam gestured to where he and Cas were now leaning together by the stove.

“Dammit Sam, we’re still in our pajamas!”

Cas chuckled and waved his hands. He and Dean were instantly clothed in jeans and faded t-shirts.

“Sam, I think we need to talk about your definition of porn.”

“Shut up Gabriel, I was just trying to get them to stop making out in the kitchen.”

“Ahhh, and I missed it?”

“Dude, he’s my brother!”

“Shut up Sam, it’s not like you’ve never seen it before.”

“No, I really haven’t. Not like that man, you guys were like trying to climb  _ into _ each other or something. It was like...really awkwardly cute and hot at the same time. Like that!” He waved wildly between the two of them. Dean raised his eyebrow and Cas just laughed. “Gabe, did you  _ see _ that?”

Gabe looked at Sam like possibly he was possessed.

“The eye fucking. It’s  _ dirty _ . I really, really don’t need to see that.”

“Sam, I once walked in on you fucking Ruby doggy style. You have exactly zero room to complain.” Dean turned back to the stove.

“That was just fucking, this is...it’s  _ intimate _ .”

Dean flipped the first batch of pancakes onto a plate and brought them to the table. Cas followed with plates and silverware. 

Gabe was shaking his head. “So let me summarize. Your brother seeing you  _ actually having sex _ with somebody is okay because it was just a physical act. You seeing your brother  _ kissing  _ my brother is  _ not  _ okay because there’s...emotion involved?”

“Exactly.”

Dean walked over and planted a loud kiss on Cas’ lips, then rubbed their noses together, grinning. “Better get used to it man. I’ve got a live in boyfriend now.” 

Sam groaned and Cas just laughed. 

Dean waved his spatula at the pancakes. “Eat your breakfast before it gets cold, whiner.”

Things calmed down once they were finally eating. Cas made little noises of enjoyment, which made Dean squirm which made Gabriel laugh and Sam groan, but other than that, no further comment was made about Dean’s  _ boyfriend _ situation. Dean considered it a win. He’d also scored a new way to completely gross Sam out, and those were few and far between, so he tucked that knowledge away for later use.

When they’d finished eating and cleaned up the kitchen, Dean led the way to the crates. “Sorry Gabe, you’re back on the shit list for getting Cas all worked up about the spell.”

“Still thinking I’d rather have breakfast than a present Dean, so I’m okay with that.”

Cas and Sam unwrapped new winter jackets, insulated Carhartt. He’d gotten Sam’s in black and Cas’ in navy. “I know your trench coat is plenty warm, but you  _ look _ cold in it. And I have one just like this in green.” 

Cas just smiled and hugged his coat. “This will look much nicer with my new jeans. Thank you Dean.”

“You guys are just gross.”

“Shut up Sam. Go get some clothes on, we’re gonna teach these guys how to make snow angels.”

~~~~~

They’d gotten bundled up and tromped out behind the bunker. Gabriel’s sledding hill had disappeared, and their snow family had reappeared with a noticeable haloed addition. 

Sam laughed and pointed. “I have never, ever, seen an angel with halo Gabe.”

“Had to do something so you’d know it was me.” Gabe grinned.

“Is that a snow angel then?” Cas asked.

“Not even close. That is a snowman, masquerading as an angel.  _ This _ is a snow angel.” Dean fell straight back into the snow and waved his arms up and down until the snow was well packed around him. He sat up carefully and raised his arms so Cas could help him up. “See? It’s got wings.” Dean grinned at him.

“Those are not wings. I’ll show you wings.” Gabriel repeated Dean’s fall, but kept his arms close to his side. He blinked, and two huge wings appeared at his side. He hopped up on his own grinning.

Dean looked stricken.

“No. Nope.” Sam stepped between Dean and Gabriel’s “angel.” Cas snapped his fingers and it was gone.

“What?” Gabriel looked between the three men.

“Think about it man.” Sam whisper-yelled at him.

“It looked like a fucking corpse you assbutt.” Cas gritted out.

“Oh, shit.  _ Dean _ . I’m sorry, I didn’t think…”

Dean just shook his head, trying to clear it of the the memory of Cas’ wings stretched out like that. Cas pulled him into a tight hug.

“You just need to see Cassie’s real wings. I swear, they’re actually awesome.”

“He  _ can’t _ you idiot. Eyes burning out of their sockets ring a bell?” Sam was too busy being protective of his big brother to pretend to be grossed out at the show of affection.

“Not if I  _ help _ they won’t, idiot.” Gabe shot back. He closed his eyes and started chanting in Enochian. 

Cas whirled to face him. “Gabriel, you don’t  _ spell _ people without permission.” Dean followed him with his eyes. His angel, pissed, was a sight not to be missed, or taken lightly.

Gabriel continued chanting for a few seconds longer, then stopped with a wave of his hands. He squinted his eyes open. “Did it work?”  Both Dean and Sam looked shocked. “I’m guessing it worked.” 

Cas moved back to his hunter and gripped his shoulder. “Dean, I can explain-”

“Dude, your wings are  _ awesome _ .” At the tone of Dean’s voice, Cas glanced over his shoulder. When he’d last  _ looked _ at his wings, they’d been torn and burned. Functional, but barely. Now, they looked, at worst, in need of a good grooming. When he glanced back at Dean, he was still staring at the black appendages. He looked away, flushing, only to see Sam staring at Gabriel’s larger, golden wings with equal intensity. 

“Can I  _ touch _ them?” Sam asked, awe clear in his voice.

Gabriel laughed. “Not without buying me dinner first.”

“Huh?”

“An angel’s wings are...sensitive. Exposing them isn’t really...Grooming is very…” Cas trailed off.

“What my brother is rather eloquently trying to say is that angels rarely expose their wings to humans. They’re part of our true form. An angel can grant a human the ability to ‘gaze upon them’ without getting his eyeballs singed out, but we don’t usually, unless we have a really good reason. Nobody touches an angel’s wings except the angel himself, outside of grooming. They’re very, well, sensitive is a good word for it, to touch. Grooming is...usually not a communal act. It’s kinda like cleaning yourself in the shower. You don’t exactly let just any random stranger clean your junk for you.”

“It’s intimate.” Sam said.

“Yes.”

"Like sex.”

“Yes. And not the kind you don’t care if your brother sees.” Gabriel teased Sam.

Sam, who’d still had his arm stretched partially toward Gabe’s wings, suddenly pulled it back like he’d been burned. He flushed red.

“Don’t want to touch ‘em anymore Sammy?” Gabriel said with a laugh.

Sam just flushed deeper red.

Dean, who’d been listening without looking away from Cas’ wings, finally looked back at Cas. “True?” He asked simply. Cas nodded.

“How long does it last?” 

“About an hour.” Cas said.

“Until Cassie turns it off,” Gabe corrected him. Cas’ gaze whipped to his brother. Gabe shrugged. “Archangel, Cassie, I’m smarter than the average bear.”

Dean grabbed Cas’ wrist and turned toward the bunker, tugging at Cas to follow. Cas caught on quickly, and they popped out of sight.

Sam looked at Gabriel, his eyes wide.

“Count yourself lucky, Samalam, at least you won’t have to watch.”

~~~~~

Cas flew them to Dean’s room, but planted himself on the opposite side of the bed from his hunter.

“Dean. Gabriel’s assessment of grooming was not exactly accurate.” He held his hands up when Dean looked like he was going to crawl across the bed to get to him.

“So, tell me in your own words Cas, tell me about grooming.” 

Just hearing Dean say the word nearly had Cas groaning. His mind was flooded with memories of his care with the Christmas tree and the fantasies it had sparked. He swallowed roughly.

“Grooming is a deeply intimate act.” 

“Like sex.”

“No. Yes. Not the way you’re thinking. It’s not about reaching orgasm, although I’ve heard that can be a result if grooming occurs when inhabiting a vessel.”

“Then what is it? Because it sounds to me a hell of a lot like spending hours,  _ hours _ exploring your wings. Touching every one of your feathers, making sure sure they’re lying exactly the way they should. It sounds like taking care of you in a way that nobody else does.”

Cas knew Dean had chosen his words purposefully to mirror his own at the pond, and more importantly, that he’d  _ understood _ how Cas thought of grooming. “I’ve never let anyone groom my wings for me.” He said it quietly.

“I’ve never spent hours worshiping a lover.” Dean was equally quiet.

“You would want that?”

“I told you Cas, I want everything with you.”

Cas was next to Dean in a blink, clinging to his hunter. Dean tugged him close, but didn’t lean in for a kiss, just held him tightly, their bodies pressed together head to toe, breathing each other in. Dean carefully avoided touching his feathers, though Cas let his wings relax perilously close to his hands.

“Will you groom my wings for me?” He whispered it into his hunter’s chest.

Dean just tugged at his jacket. “I think you’re a little overdressed, don’t you?”

Castiel took a step back and shrugged out of his coat. Dean mirrored his action. They sat at opposite ends of the bed to remove their boots. Cas hesitated before pulling his t-shirt over his head. Dean watched, fascinated, as it seemed to slip through his wings. He motioned Cas to the bed. “If you lay on your stomach and spread them out, I can reach better.”

“You’re not going to take off your shirt?”

“Nah, this is about you Cas, I can get at your feathers just fine with my clothes on.”

“It’s just...I feel very exposed.”

“Cas, I will strip down and groom you naked if that’s what you need. I just want to take care of you.”

“I would like it if you would remove your shirt, and...maybe your pants. I’d like to feel your skin with my feathers...it’s...they’re  _ mine _ , a manifestation of my true form.” The idea of being able to  _ feel  _ his hunter without the filter of his vessel was... _ exhilarating.  _

Cas stripped out of his jeans and socks and quickly lay on the bed as Dean had requested while the other man removed his own clothing. He spread his wings the small amount that the room would allow, thankful that his wings were smaller in physical form than in in their projected form Still, they brushed the boundaries of the room before being extended fully. 

He could feel Dean studying him. He was ashamed at the state that they were in...he hadn’t bothered with grooming much when his wings were so badly broken… but grateful that Gabriel had healed them. It was an impressive gift, and one he hadn’t known the archangel was capable of giving. He glanced over his shoulder, looking for Dean.

“I don’t know where to start.” Cas sucked in a breath at his hesitation. He could see how  _ badly _ Dean wanted to get it right.

“There’s not really a wrong place, but I usually start in the middle and work my way out.”

Dean crawled onto the bed and straddled his hips, he could feel the skin of his legs against his chest when he drew a breath. 

“Okay, tell me if I do something you don’t like.” Cas just nodded. 

Dean gently stroked the skin of his back, between his wings, as if familiarizing himself with it’s resilience, and it dawned on Cas that despite their mutually satisfying encounter the day before, they had never really  _ touched _ without at least a layer of cloth separating them. He breathed in a quiet gasp, and Dean stopped.

“No, I like it, it’s just...new.”

“Yeah.” Dean’s voice was gravely and low as he returned to his exploration of skin. He worked his way back up to the top of Cas’ back and finally,  _ finally _ , ran the tips of his fingers over the very edges of his marginal coverts, brushing the joint between skin and feather. Cas moaned deeply and Dean drew back with a light hiss.

“Did it hurt?” they asked the question simultaneously.

Dean chuckled and answered first. “No, but man, it sent very pleasant tingles straight to my dick.”

“An...accurate assessment of the feeling.”

“Yeah?” Dean sounded pleased.

“Yes. Please, Dean…”

Dean settled his weight on the top of Cas’ butt and and leaned over for better access, he balanced himself with a hand between his shoulder blades, and carded his fingers through the same feathers, from skin to the edge of his marginals, seeming to sense where the feathers changed before stopping. The pressure was perfect, the tips of his hunter’s scarred fingers brushing into his down, the thicker parts of his digits smoothing the barbs along the vanes. Cas could only whimper. He’d groomed himself many times, but having someone else,  _ Dean _ , touching his feathers...it was unlike anything he could have imagined. Dean seemed to take the sound as encouragement, repeating the motion again and again until he’d finished with the marginal coverts, Cas felt boneless, and the hunter hadn’t even finished with a quarter of the first side of one wing. When Dean paused and leaned back, Cas grumbled.

“Just checking…” Dean took the base of a single feather between his thumb and forefinger, and gently pulled toward the tip, ensuring that barbs were perfectly smooth. Cas couldn’t hold back his groan. Dean stroked the skin of his back gently with his thumb while he repeated the motion with several more feathers before he moved on to the secondary coverts. Cas’ body was humming with sensation. Every touch and stroke was a caress directly to his grace. It felt like he was going to vibrate out of his skin. He noticed Dean shifting away and a small pained noise escaped him.

“Not stopping baby, just can’t reach.” He smoothed this skin of Cas’ back again as he moved away, careful not to accidentally kneel on the newly groomed feathers. Cas lowered his wings slightly so they brushed against Dean’s thigh as he walked around to the top of the wing he was studying. “Jesus,  _ Cas _ .” He sounded short of breath.

He positioned himself near Cas’ alulae, which he had spread wide. He skipped those feathers though, digging his fingers through the section of his wider primary coverts, top to bottom, smoothing through his down, caressing the barbs into place with the joints of his fingers and palm.. Cas’ gave up on controlling the motion of his body. It was just to much effort. His his twitched down into the mattress with the first pinch of an individual feather. 

Dean gave each primary individual attention, starting with the largest and working inwards, through the primaries and secondaries and finishing with the small section of tertials. He paused again for a second before leaning forward across Cas’ wing to reach his three wriggling alulae. “Don’t want to forget these guys.” 

He stroked the most sensitive feathers with absolute precision, careful not to tug even as Cas flicked them away in reaction. The sensation, paired with the hunter’s chest pressing down on Cas’ wing made him buck his hips. “ _ Deeean”  _ the sound was ripped from him, a cross between a moan and a shout.

“Don’t get too worked up love, we’ve got a long way to go.” His hunter was sounding downright smug at this point. When Dean had settled his weight over his butt to start with his second wing, Cas gave a quick thrust up, dragging the top of his ass along the hunter’s shaft. Dean groaned and pressed his own butt down more firmly. Cas smirked.

“Cas,” he started, his tone dark, “You start that and we ain’t gonna finish. I’ll stop right now.” Cas grunted, but settled back into the mattress, hips still. 

Dean worked the second wing over, more quickly for being more confident in his ability to bring pleasure, but with no less care. He stroked the alulae as soon as he took his position to start on the outer edges of the second wing, rather than teasing Cas this time. When he’d finished with the tertials, he patted Cas on the ass. “Flip.”

Cas rolled over and repositioned his wings carefully. Even without his hunter’s touch, they were buzzing with residual sensation, and the lightest brush against the sheet had him hissing. He was too blissed out to even care about the tent in his boxers. Dean wandered back to the other side of the bed, assessing the situation. He took hold of Cas’ elbow gently, and tugged his arm across his body until he was leaning on his side. Nodding to himself, he worked through the ultra sensitive axillars and his anterior marginal coverts before rolling him to his other side and repeating the same sections. Seemingly satisfied that he could reach the rest of his feathers from a central location, he guided Cas back to lying flat before crawling onto the bed. Cas watched as Dean hesitated for a second then once again straddled his hips. He was careful not to press his weight down, and Cas could see that the situation in Dean’s boxer briefs was as prominent as his own.

Dean glanced up at him, meeting his eyes. “You good?” Cas could see the love and lust swirling in his eyes. 

Cas nodded. “Sooo, good Dean.” Dean smiled. He looked truly happy, not smug the angel realized, that he could wring out such pleasure from his lover.

Dean leaned forward slowly, his arms stretched out in front of him, and Cas braced for his weight. Nothing,  _ not a thing in heaven or on earth _ , could have prepared him for the joint sensation of Dean’s cock pressing against his as he slid his fingers into  _ both  _ wings. Cas’ hips shot up uncontrollably, increasing the pressure where their groins met, and both men groaned heavily, Dean’s hands frozen in his feathers.

“ _ Pleease. _ ” Cas gritted out. Not bothering to control the rocking of his hips. “ _ Dean. _ ” His voice sounded wrecked, even to his own ears.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut for a second, his body held perfectly still. Slowly, he reopened his eyes and restarted the motion of his hands, answering each of Cas’ thrust with one of his own. When Cas didn’t think he could take any more, Dean paused for a second, seeming to assess his work. A dangerous looked crossed his face before he was leaning forward again, pressing his weight into Cas cock to stomach to chest to shoulder, finally, bringing their lips together. Cas sighed at the relief of his oversensitive feathers, his eyes fluttering closed. He missed Dean reaching out. The hunter’s sudden loose grip on his alulae shocked him over the edge, tumbling into his orgasm with a shout. Dean rode down hard against him, shouting his own release. 

They came down from the high slowly, Dean gently caressing the skin of Cas’ arms, chest, and sides, careful to avoid Cas’ still fluttering feathers, and pressing soft kisses to his face. When Cas finally opened his eyes, his hunter was staring down at him, a small smile on his face.

“That was…” He trailed off, there weren’t really words for how deeply satisfying that had been.

Dean’s smile just widened. “Yeah, it was.” He shifted a little, then leveraged his weight back onto his knees groaning a bit at their stiffness.

“Would you mind if I put them away? They’re so sensitive that the air is almost painful. These sheets feel like sandpaper.”

“I can’t even imagine. Besides, I want to cuddle, and I don’t want to lay on your wings. But…”

“I’ll bring them out again, some other time Dean.” He reassured his hunter.

“Okay then, do your thing.” Cas tucked his wings back into their dimension then touched Dean’s knee, relieving the stiffness and cleaning up their mess.

“Hmmm. Perks of having an angel boyfriend. Might have to keep you around.”

Cas flopped back onto the bed. “You’re stuck with me now. What’s that saying? ‘Once you go Cas, you never go back.’”

Dean snorted out a surprised laugh and snuggled into his side. Cas draped his arms around his hunter and tugged him closer, burying his own smile in Dean’s hair. He was almost startled when he heard Dean’s silent prayer.

_ Cas? Thanks for letting me do that. I love you. _ His hunter buried his face more firmly into his chest.

He whispered his reply. “It could have only ever been you Dean, I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would apologize for the use of technical terminology in the wing kink section, but you can only say feathers so many times before it is obnoxiously monotonous. I do apologize if it turns out the phraseology is more obnoxious than the repetition would have been.


	14. December 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little bit of domestic fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr for @notfunnydean's SPN Advent Calendar Challenge 2018. Today's prompt was "The Ugliest Christmas Sweater."
> 
> This is my first long fic, and I'm really new to sharing my writing. If you find any errors, or just have feedback, please let me know. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Unfortunately, I don't own the characters or the bunker, but I can dream.

****Dean had spent an hour last night convincing Cas to let him use the spell.

He’d tried begging.

He’d tried bribery.

He’d tried just outright explaining. “Babe, they literally _saw_ me drag you off to our bedroom. We disappeared for _hours_ . I am positive that everyone who happened to be in the bunker at the time heard one or both of us come. It’s _embarrassing_.”

Nothing had worked. Finally, Dean had grabbed Cas’ hand a placed it on his head. “ _Look.”_

It had taken about five seconds of projecting his internal angst at his angel for Cas to consent. He hadn’t even had time to get a headache. Dean sent Cas on a supply run while he dug up the recipe. He knew that it was better if he prepared the casserole, or at least part of it, the night before.

When he’d been researching in preparation for his ‘month of Christmas,’ he’d found hundreds of ideas for breakfast. This one had caught his attention because 1) French toast is awesome, and 2) early prep meant less early morning. It hadn’t hurt that it looked pretty fail proof.

He laid out the ingredients Cas had delivered as well as his bake ware and tools. He double checked the recipe. He took several deep breaths. He had to admit, now that he knew the spell affected him, he was a little nervous. He closed his eyes and took one more breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth, for good measure before whispering the blessing.

He could _feel_ the weight lifting. The room seemed brighter, the air _smelled_ better. He grinned.

Cas gasped.

Dean turned to his angel, raising an eyebrow at his blown out pupils.

“Your soul…”

“Yeah?”

The angel just nodded and adjusted himself.

Dean got to work. He carefully cubed the day old brioche, using the side of his knife to keep the pieces even. He set them aside to dry a little while he mixed the custard. He whisked the eggs to a pretty lemony yellow before adding the milk and cream, whisked again before adding the sugar, molasses, and vanilla and whisked again.

He slathered the interior of his baking dish (a new one, gifted from Cas) with butter, paying special attention to the corners. He poured in the cubed bread, taking a minute to rearrange the pieces so that the crusts were all buried or facing down. He whisked the custard mixture one last time before pouring it gently over the bread. He pressed everything down for a second to make sure all of the bread was at least coated, and covered it tightly with cling wrap. Cas stowed it in the fridge.

The topping was quick, he premixed the sugar and molasses, then added flour, salt, and cinnamon before finishing with freshly ground nutmeg. Pre-ground cinnamon was fine. Nutmeg lost too much flavor over time, and it was just as easy to acquire the whole nut as it was the ground stuff anyway. He stirred the ingredients around with his fork for a second before using it to slice up a stick of cold butter. _Should have used a knife, this stuff is hard when it’s cold_. That was added to the dry ingredients and blended carefully until it resembled sand. He bagged it and tossed the bag to Cas to go in the fridge.

He turned back to his workstation to clean up, but Cas waved his hands and it was...just gone.

“You didn’t have to-” His protest was cut off by Cas wrapping his arms around him from behind.

“I’m ready for bed.” His angel whispered the words just behind his ear, his lips brushing Dean’s skin teasingly.

“Oh.”

~~~~~

Sam had avoided his brother the previous day. Not only because he’d watched his brother drag his angel off to bed, and _eewww_ , but also because he figured Dean would be embarrassed about Sam and Gabriel _knowing_ that he’d dragged Cas off to do wicked things.

He wished now that he’d plugged his headphones in immediately, and was a little jealous that Gabriel had flapped off to _anywhere that isn’t within hearing range._ He probably should have used the time to go Christmas shopping, but the thought hadn’t occurred to him until later.

He’d considered waiting in his room until he was summoned for breakfast, but he really wanted some coffee, and the _smell_ drifting under his door was drool-worthy. He’d take his chances on an awkward morning, _we’re going to see each other at some point anyway_ , for a shot at whatever it was Dean was baking up for breakfast.

He was more than a little surprised when he walked into the kitchen. His brother was standing at the counter in green and blue checked flannel pajama pants and a faded grey t-shirt, cutting fruit. Nothing about that was particularly out of the ordinary, at least in the last couple of weeks. What was alarming, however, was Cas, similarly clad in blue and grey check flannel pants and navy t-shirt, pressed against Dean’s back, his arms slung loosely around Dean’s hips, and his face nuzzling at the back of his neck.

Sam froze two steps inside the door, staring. He wasn’t sure if he should try to back out of the room before he was noticed, or if he should clear his throat before things got anymore… He swallowed dryly.

Dean and Cas both looked over at him, but they didn’t change positions otherwise. Dean smiled broadly. “Good morning Sammy.”

 _Ahh, Dean had used the spell again._ Sam was a little surprised that he would open himself up intentionally, now that he knew the effects of the spell, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to complain. Spelled Dean was harder to tease, yes, but so much more enjoyable to hang out with.

“Good morning! I could smell...whatever you’re cooking. I couldn’t wait.”

“Got at least another half hour at least. Might wanna go change.” Dean gestured with his knife at Sam’s own flannel jammies. “We’re gonna invite Gabe down for breakfast too.”

“Nah. I’m in the mood for a lazy morning.” He dug his fingers through his hair, straightening it a little. “Besides, Gabe’s seen me in worse.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up at that. “Oh, _really_?”

“Not like that you ass.” He didn’t bother explaining. He was pretty sure his brother would ignore it anyway. He shuffled around them and poured himself a mug of coffee and grabbing a seat at the table.

“What smells so good anyway?”

“French toast bake. It’s almost ready to come out of the oven, but it has to set up a bit after that. We’ve got toppings too, fresh fruit for your delicate rabbit sensibilities,” Dean grinned over at him, “or maple syrup and whipped cream for Mr. Sweet-tooth.”

Sam groaned into his mug. It sounded _fantastic_ , and knowing how the spell worked, it was likely to be even better than he imagined.

“We’ve got time for presents now, actually, might as well get it out of the way before Gabe gets here.” Dean gestured at the crates, packed with layers of multicolored packages.

Cas pulled away from his brother slowly as Sam stood up. They moved over to the crates and started tearing at paper. After the first couple of times, when Dean had chastised them for being cautious, they dealt with the wrapping quickly. The top two gifts were packages of plain t-shirts in a variety of dark colors. They went through a ton of clothes on hunts between the fights, blood, and just general grossness. A lot of times it was easier to trash stuff than to try to get it clean. The next several were button-down shirts, a mix of flannel plaid and plain canvas. Again, a practical part of their uniform. The final package, however, had Sam bent over laughing. It was a bright red sweater garishly decorated with just about every Christmas-themed item one could imagine. He glanced over at Cas to see the angel holding a blue sweater with the same level of tack.

Dean was grinning. “Gabe kinda beat me to the punch. These don’t even have lights or music.”

“I am perfectly fine with that.”

Cas had his head tilted. He looked like he was struggling to find something nice to say about the sweater. He settled on “I still prefer borrowing your shirts Dean. They smell like you.”

Dean flushed a little. “It’s called an ‘ugly sweater’ babe. It’s a Christmas thing. They’re supposed to be really tacky and...ugly.”

Sam’s brow had shot up at the casual way Dean had slipped that ‘babe’ in. “Oh my God you guys are so sweet I might get a toothache!” He couldn’t help but grin at his brother though.

“Better skip breakfast then. Wouldn’t want to have to pay a dentist.” Dean had moved back to the oven, and was carefully removing a baking dish. The heavenly smell in the room multiplied.

“Not a chance.”

Sam settled back into his spot at the table while Dean and Cas bustled around the kitchen, laying out plates and silverware and setting out the toppings. When the table was set, Dean nodded at Cas.

“Gabriel, Dean made breakfast.”

The archangel appeared immediately in the chair to his left.

“What the hell is _that_?”

Gabe’s ‘ugly sweater’ topped the sleigh sweater and both Cas and Sam’s new sweaters hands down. A plush Rudolph, complete with fuzzy antlers and a blinking red nose, protruded from the garish red sweater, sticking out at least a foot. The disembodied head was surrounded by a green tinsel wreath threaded with flashing lights.

“I believe that ‘ugly sweater’ would beat ours in a contest.” Cas deadpanned to Dean.

“Dude, you gotta change. You can’t even sit at the table. You’re going to get syrup everywhere.”

Gabriel heaved a theatrical sigh and waved his hand. Rudolph and the wreath disappeared, leaving only the intensely red sweater. “You guys are no fun.”

Dean chuckled as he brought the steaming baking dish to the table and set it on the waiting trivets.

“That, however, is worth ditching Rudolph.” The archangel picked up his fork and leaned forward. Cas shot him a warning glance as he sat down. Gabriel settled back in his chair.

Dean smiled down at his creation for a moment, giving everyone time to ooh and ahh over the beautifully golden brown casserole before he started scooping out generous portions onto each plate. There was a flurry of hands reaching for toppings as he sat down.

Gabriel and Cas moaned simultaneously, at their first bites. Gabriel quite loudly and Cas with definite restraint. Dean leaned over and licked the corner of his angel’s mouth. “You had a little whipped cream…” he gestured at his own face.

Sam chose to ignore them all, loading his fork with a precise combination of eggy bread, crumb topping, blueberries, and whipped cream. He _may_ have groaned quietly himself. _Dean can fucking cook._

Dean was smiling broadly and glancing around the table. Sam knew his brother well enough to interpret the look. His family was together, happy, and in the process of enjoying a meal that _he_ had prepared. It was like a little glimpse of Dean’s personal heaven.


	15. December 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas initiates some morning smut then the boys spend the day baking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted, in a slightly less smutty form on Tumblr for @notfunnydean's SPN Advent Calendar Challenge 2018. Today's prompt was "Sweet Gingerbread House."
> 
> This is my first long fic, and I'm really new to sharing my writing. If you find any errors, or just have feedback, please let me know. I hope you enjoy. This is also my very first foray into smut writing, and I'm nervous that you all will hate it and it will ruin the story, but it here, and I hope you don't!
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Unfortunately, I don't own the characters or the bunker, but I can dream.

Cas understood why Dean wanted to “take it slow” he really did. Sex had never been about intimacy with Dean, and he wanted things to be different this time around.

On the other hand, they had spent years learning everything about each other. Every quirk and character flaw, every weakness. They moved together flawlessly, wordlessly, in a fight and in the kitchen. They knew how to care for each other on a soul deep level, had been loving each other nearly since they met.

This, however, was unexplored territory. A part of his hunter that he didn’t know yet. He’d had glimpses over the years, moments he’d witnessed unintentionally, but already he could tell that what he’d seen of Dean over the years was nothing like what they would have together.

He’d done research, “watching porn” Dean would call it. Hours of research both of the professionally produced variety, ‘cheesy’ as it often was, and of the home video shared with the world variety. Had even engaged in self gratification a time or two (or a few hundred).

But his hunter was right here. They were barely touching, having moved to opposite sides of the bed at some point in the night. They were in similar positions, on their sides facing the same direction, their only point of contact was Dean’s foot resting on his shin.

Cas inched his way closer, until he could press himself to Dean’s back and wrap an arm around his waist. He propped himself up on an elbow for a better view of his hunter’s face, relaxed in sleep, his head pillowed on a bent elbow. He placed a soft kiss where the freckled shoulder met neck, ran his nose up the slope until it was tickled by the clean edge of Dean’s short hair, breathed deep the smell of soap and deodorant and shampoo and  _ Dean _ .

He could feel his body reacting. Growing to press against the taught curve of his  _ boyfriend’s _ rear, but he had no urge to grind into the pressure at this point. He wanted to bring Dean pleasure, wanted to  _ actively _ work him to the edge until he had no choice but to tip over into bliss.

He could feel the course hair where his hand rested between Dean’s navel and the top of his flannel pants, and he stroked his thumb through it slowly. Dean’s body had changed over the years; he’d developed the smallest bit of a belly over the hard muscles of his abdomen. Cas loved it because it was a sign that his hunter was safe, healthy, finally able to relax enough for his body to display even this tiny sign of less than perfect fitness.

He ran his fingers along the edge of the pajama bottoms, from the light line of hair to the dip at his far hip, then back across to the other hip. He could see Dean’s body begin to respond now, his cock filling up and just starting to press at the buttons of his fly. He moved his exploration up, feeling out each ridge of muscle under the softness, each rib. He knew them at an atomic level, but this touch was different, more _real_.

He skirted the edges of his pectorals, then up his sternum. Dean’s chest was nearly hairless, and his hand moved smoothly over warm skin. He could feel the rhythmic beat of Dean's heart under his palm, slow and steady,  _ calm _ , it soothed him.

Dean was beautiful in every way. His body, rough and scarred and inked. His mind, intelligent and quick. His soul...he’d left Dean with absolutely no room for doubt how the sight of his soul affected him. 

He traced his path back down to rest his hand once again below Dean’s belly button, started up the slow stroking of the hair there. His hunter was waking up, it was evident in the small movements of his body, the the change of his breathing, and Cas wanted his thoughts about how their morning should start to be very clear.

~

Dean woke slowly, snuggled back more tightly against Cas, froze when the motion pressed Cas’ hardness more firmly against his ass. He sighed and rolled onto his back, his side now firmly along Cas’ front, he opened his eyes to peer up into stunningly blue eyes..

“Hello Dean.” 

“G’mornin’ Sunshine.” His voice was still hoarse with sleep, deepened by his arousal. “You startin’ somethin’ without me?”

Cas stilled his thumb for a second, then restarted the slow caress. “I was simply admiring your body.”

“Hmmm, that so?”

Cas leaned down to press a slow kiss to his mouth, licking at Dean’s grin before taking his lower lip between his teeth and biting gently. Dean brought an arm up to the side of his face, gently stroking his jaw with his thumb keeping time with the motion of Cas’ hand. They deepened the kiss, running tongue along tongue, until they were breathless and panting before pulling away to rest forehead to forehead.

Cas spread his fingers wide, wriggling them below the waist of Dean’s pants, following his happy trail lower without actually moving his hand. Dean’s hips hitched up, just a tiny bit, before he forced them back down away from the questing hand.

“Cas, sweetheart, you start down that road, we ain’t comin’ back.”

“Dean, I have longed, dreamed,  _ fantasized _ about this road for so long that it is taking all of my self control not to strip you naked. We started down this road a very long time ago.”

Dean groaned at the words, his hips twitching up once again. “Yeah?”

“Yes. Please Dean, I want to  _ touch _ you.”

“Well, alright then. What’s mine is yours angel.”

Dean closed his eyes and struggled for control.  _ I am NOT going to come like a horny teenager when he fucking touches me. _ He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He’d repeated the actions twice more before he realized Cas _ wasn’t _ touching him. He opened one eye cautiously, then the other when he found Cas just  _ looking _ at him. He’d pulled back completely, kneeling by Dean’s knees. 

“You look like you are about to be tortured.”

“No, baby, no. I am desperately trying not to come. You wanna talk about longing? I’ve jacked off to the memory of your voice. I’ve had wet dreams, plural, about us making out. The thought of you actually touching me? Of your actual hand on my dick?” His hips stuttered up uncontrollably. “ _ Fuuuck _ ”

~

Cas knee walked across the bed until he was positioned between Dean’s thighs. He studied the hunter for a moment, trying to decide how to best remove his clothes. He impatiently waved his hands and they were gone, leaving Dean bare before him. He had his eyes closed tightly and was back to focusing on his breathing. Given an explanation, and the state of his own body, Cas could well understand the need now.

He rested his hands just above the inside of Dean’s knees, and the hunter’s muscles bunched. His cock, dark red and resting on his stomach was  _ pulsing _ , leaking freely.

He slid his hands up the inside of his lover’s thighs until he could tease at the base of his cock with his thumbs. Dean’s hips thrust up  _ hard _ . Someday, if the urgency ever wore off, they would have time for teasing and slow touches. Today, he wanted Dean to taste ecstasy  _ now _ . 

He traced the vein up the underside of Dean’s shaft with his thumb, his fingers barely grazing the top of his shaft. When he reached the head, he circled his thumb once around the spongy underside then slid it over the top, coating the digit in precum before tightening his grip and stroking back to the base. Dean thrust up into the stroke. 

“Caaas” The breathy moan had his own cock pulsing out precum. He used his free hand to pull his pants below his hips and gripped the base of his cock tightly for a moment, letting Dean set the rhythm of his strokes with his thrusts.

When he was sure he wouldn’t spill immediately, he reached down to run his fingers over the skin of Dean’s testicles, tracing the seam from the base of his dick and back lightly.

The hunter’s pace increased, but his rhythm faltered. Cas renewed his focus there, maintaining the steady rhythm, swiping across the top of the head every few strokes, never stopping the motion of the fingers on Dean’s scrotum.

“Cas, close. ‘M so close.”

He sped up his motion, ever so slightly and traced the middle finger of his other hand to the back of Dean’s balls, then slightly further. On his next downward stroke, he pressed into the rough skin there. Dean’s hips froze at the top of his thrust, his cock pulsed, he moaned Cas’ name and the first thick shot of cum landed just below his breastbone. Cas maintained the pressure, slowing his pace, stroking Dean through his orgasm, two, three more pulses and the hunter was pulling his hips away slightly. Cas drew his hands away and looked up to find Dean propped on his elbows watching, or more precisely, staring at Cas’ hard cock.

Cas’ hand flew to his dick, picking up the same rhythm and pace he’d used on Dean. His eyes never left his hunter’s face. It was a study in lust and satisfaction. When the hunter sucked his bottom lip,  _ those lips _ , into his mouth, he was done. One more stroke and he was groaning, falling forward, catching himself with his free arm, his cock pulsing out come to join Dean’s on his chest.

He released his dick. His eyes drifted shut just before his arm gave out and he was laying on Dean, their ejaculate wet between them. Dean grunted lightly at the sudden weight, but brought his arms up to settle at his lower back and nuzzled his chin into Cas’ hair.

Then, Dean was laughing. His chest was shaking with it. Cas pushed up on his arms, a little shakily, so he could see Dean’s face again, and cocked his head.

“I was under the impression that laughing at your lover was bad form.”

Dean laughed harder. Cas huffed. When he tried to pull away, Dean tightened his hold.

“I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing at me. That was, far and away, the hottest sex of my life, and it was a handjob from an angel. I mean, where’d you even learn how to  _ do _ that?”

“I do have a dick you know.”

“Jesus  _ Christ _ Cas, don’t even put that image in my head. What I just saw is already gonna fuel my spank bank for fucking  _ years _ .”

Cas grinned wickedly. “Dean, I have countless hours to myself while you’re sleeping. I’ve been ‘doing research’ for a very long time. You have no  _ idea  _ the things I want to do with you.”

Dean just moaned.

~~~~~

Dean and Cas wandered into the kitchen sometime after ten. Sam had been up long enough that he’d wished Dean had included noise canceling headphones with his mp3 player. He’d had a bowl of cereal, showered, surfed for cases, and was now mindlessly “Christmas shopping” on Amazon. Not that he’d found anything yet, but he’d gotten a couple of ideas.

When the two had poured their coffee and joined him at the table, he pointed at them and made his best disgusted face. “Soundproof your room.” He left it at that.

Dean turned bright red, but he smiled.

Cas sipped his coffee. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Good. What’s the plan for today?”

“Busting out another holiday tradition. We’re gonna bake cookies, like a family baking day. Thought we might even let Gabe help.” Dean’s blush was fading. “I’ve even got one picked out that I think you’ll approve of Sammy. Just let me grab a bowl of cereal first. I’m starving.”

“Anything we can do to help with prep?”

“I stuck the recipes in your crates. If you grab them, you can start getting the ingredients out. We’re gonna start with the gingerbread ones. I think that’s in Cas’ crate.”

Dean might have set a record for speed eating his cereal. By the time they’d read through the cards and started to assemble ingredients, he was sorting through their bake ware and muttering to himself. “Wish we had sheet pans, and a cooling rack… a mixer…”

Cas disappeared, a moment later, a bakery style cooling rack full of baking sheets appeared in the kitchen, followed immediately by Cas, with a box under each arm.

“Cas…?”

“That,” he pointed at the rack, “is on ‘loan’ from a closed bakery. These,” He set down two the two boxes, revealing new KitchenAid mixers, “are an early Christmas gift for the bunker.”

Dean walked over, grabbed his face and gave him a loud kiss on the lips. “You’re awesome.” He looked up. “Gabe, if you wanna get in on Christmas cookies, you better get down here and help.”

Gabe appeared next to Sam, holding a sign that said ‘Will work for cookies.’

~~~~~

Several hours and  _  eighteen dozen _ cookies (not including the gingerbread houses) later, they were gathered at the table. Cas had ducked out to grab take-out for lunch, and it was likely that they’d be having either leftovers or pizza for dinner.

“Okay, time to rally. We’re ready for the best part!” Dean was still enthusiastically leading the charge. 

“Eating the cookies?” 

Dean shot a quelling look at Gabe. “Gingerbread houses!” He grabbed a grocery bag from the pantry and brought it to the table. He added their entire collection of cereal bowls and the piping bags of frosting he’d prepared earlier. “Start unwrapping all of that while I get these together.” He motioned to the table as he walked to the cooling rack.

He sorted through the trays, choosing cookies and placing them on foil baking trays. He placed one in front of each man before sitting down with his own tray. He motioned at the other men to get started while he assessed his own tray.

They were...struggling. No amount of frosting would keep the pieces upright.

“We are four grown men. Or two grown men and two angels, whatever. We can fucking make cookie houses stand up properly okay!?” Sam muttered loudly.

Dean hadn’t actually started. He was making a plan. Cas had noticed and stopped fussing with the walls of his house, watching Dean.

Dean laid out the walls of his house, corners touching. He ran a thick squiggly bead of frosting along the edge of the square he’d created. He grabbed a handful of gumdrops and stuck them into the squiggly line, one at each corner and several between. He propped one wall up against the gumdrop base and held it in place while he ran another squiggly line of frosting on the tray at the base of the wall opposite of his support system. He meticulously placed a solid line of gumdrops, alternating green and red, on the new frosting. He held the first wall in place while he repeated the process on the second wall before running a smooth bead of frosting on the inner and outer joint of the two walls. By the time, all three men were watching him.

“How do you even know how to  _ do _ that.” Gabriel waved a hand in his direction.

“I just… It makes sense. Besides, I like the little Christmas hedge.” He shrugged, but didn’t stop assembling his house. Spreading the fingers of his hands to support the third wall. He waited a moment before slowly pulling his hand away. The walls stayed upright. He quickly blocked up the fourth wall and attached the roof.

With a method in place, the houses were quickly assembled. Dean, had already started decorating, carefully placing sugar wafer candy shingles, artfully outlining peppermint disk windows, piping on a door with an M&M knob and spearmint gummy wreath. He created a path to the edge of his tray with chocolate melting candies and outlined with the same ‘hedge’ as the house. He studied his work for a minute before removing the candies at the base of the door and cleaning up the piping. He snipped off a piece of red gummy ribbon and placed it as a doormat.

He glanced around the table. Cas had taken a similar approach to his own, though he avoided the intricate piping work and his path was made of rainbow gummy ribbon. He’d fashioned four little snowmen out of soft peppermint candies, complete with licorice rope scarves.

Sam had shingled his roof with Skittles, shaped windows from jelly beans, and a path of crushed candy cane. He’d even crafted a little lamp post from a mini candy cane and a yellow gumdrop.

Gabriel...had evidently glued on as much candy as the little house would hold. Every brown surface was covered in some form of flavored sugar. He was leaning back, munching on a KitKat. 

“So, where’re we gonna display our works of art Santa?” 

“By the crates I think.” He waved at the counter.

“We don’t get to eat them?” Gabriel was in full pout mode before Dean could even stand up.

“Dude, we have like 200 other cookies. These are decoration. If you still want to eat it at Christmas, have at it.” Dean looked around the kitchen. “Let’s get these cookies stashed and clean up so we can have pizza and watch a movie.”

Sam groaned. “I vote for angel cleanup duty.” He pointed at Gabriel.

“Dude, they’re not maids.”

Gabriel waved his hand and the kitchen was set right. “But I’d look damn fine in the uniform.”


	16. December 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Cas take a shot at making breakfast. (Pure domestic fluff)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr for @notfunnydean's SPN Advent Calendar Challenge 2018. Today’s prompt was "Wearing silly Santa Hats."
> 
> This is my first long fic, and I'm really new to sharing my writing. If you find any errors, or just have feedback, please let me know. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Unfortunately, I don't own the characters or the bunker, but I can dream.

****Dean could smell it before he got to the kitchen. Something was burning. He walked into the kitchen just in time to see whatever was in the pan on the stove actually _catch flame_. Neither his brother nor his angel seemed to notice this development, as they were hunched, both still in their pajamas, over a bowl on the counter.

The smoke detector started blaring as Dean reached the stove, picked up the lid to the frying pan and dropped it over the charred… bacon?

At the sound of the smoke alarm, both men had turned back to the stove. Dean, now standing with his hand on his jaw, stared at them. They both started talking.

“I was going to make you breakfast...”  
“It was just bacon and pancakes, how hard…”

Dean cut them off with a wave of his hand. “Sit.”

They moped to the table. He felt like he was watching two chastised children. To be honest, middle schoolers would have probably had more luck with breakfast. _Hell, by the time I was in middle school, I was cooking most of our meals._ He moved to the coffee pot, stopping to examine the contents of the bowl they’d been studying. He couldn’t readily identify the gloppy brown goo. He poured himself a cup of coffee, refilled the two mugs on the counter, grabbed all three and brought them to the table and set them all down.

“Explain.” They started talking over each again, and were cut off again. Dean pointed at Cas. “You first.”

“I woke up early and I thought it would be a nice gesture to make you breakfast for a change. It is...harder than I imagined. When Sam joined me, he offered to help.”

“You make it look so easy. You just dump a bunch of things together and voila, pancakes.” Sam defended.

“That’s supposed to be pancake batter?” He gestured at the bowl. Both men nodded.

At this point, it was taking all of Dean’s control not to burst into laughter. It was evident that they’d been at this for a while. The kitchen was a disaster. There was flour everywhere, and at least two bowls, presumably previous failed attempts, of goop in the sink.

“We  used a recipe from Google!” Cas exclaimed. “We followed it precisely, but it would not ‘mix until smooth’.”

Dean couldn’t help it, the laughter escaped. He laughed until he had to hold his side because it was hurting. Cas and Sam just looked so... _defeated_.

“There’s a reason I eat so much salad Dean!” Sam protested, setting off another round of laughter.

When he’d settled to an occasional chuckle, he let them off the hook. “While I truly appreciate the gesture, I think it would be a good idea if you don’t use the kitchen unsupervised until we’ve had some some cooking lessons. Okay?”

Both men nodded.

Dean leaned over his angel for a quick kiss. “Missed you this morning.” He whispered in Cas’ ear. He stood back up, grabbed a quick swig of his coffee, then gestured at the counter. “Now let’s get this cleaned up so I can make something edible.”

They had the counters cleaned and the bacon charcoal properly disposed of quickly. Sam worked on the dishes while Dean took stock of the remaining ingredients. Milk, flour, eggs, butter. He pointed at Cas. “Please find the blender.”

Dean set the oven to preheat, grabbed a pie plate, and started cubing butter. Cas set the blender at his elbow.

“Can you crack eggs without shells?” He asked his angel. Cas just gave him a sheepish shrug. Dean dug out a bowl. “Please crack four eggs into this.”

Dean transferred the butter to the pie plate and stuck it in the oven.

“Why…” Sam asked, watching from the sink.

“Just watch and learn. This one is pretty easy but it looks fancy when it’s done.”

Dean dumped a cup of milk then a carefully measured cup of flour into the blender. He added a pinch of salt, two capfuls of vanilla, and a few shakes of cinnamon to the blender. He examined Cas’ cracked eggs, fished out a few stray shells, and dumped it into the blender.

“Don’t do this with regular pancake batter, it’s gross if it’s overmixed.” He turned on the blender for a minute, lifted the cover to check the contents and pulsed it for a few seconds longer. He took the lid off and showed the other two men. “See how it’s all the same color and smooth? That means it’s ready. If there’s stuff stuck up on the side, scrape it down and blend it a little more. With the blender OFF.”

He opened the oven and peaked at the butter, now melted and coating the bottom of the pie pan. “This part is a little tricky.” He opened the oven door completely and pulled out the rack with the pie plate. He poured the contents of the blender into the pan slowly, shaking the carafe slightly to get out as much batter as possible. He pushed the rack back in gently. “Don’t burn yourself and don’t push the rack in too fast or it will slosh all over.”

“What is it?”

“Pannukakku. Oven Pancakes. It bakes for half an hour or so. I’ll show you how to check if it’s done. For now, I’m gonna make something to dress it up. It’s great with just syrup, like french toast kind of, but I like it even better with fried apples.” Sam had finished the dishes, and he and Cas were leaning against the counter watching him with a sort of awe. He could feel his cheeks flush.

“This is part is harder. Seeing what you two chuckleheads did with bacon, I’d hate to see you with molten sugar. Why don’t you open your presents.” He was glad he’d tucked them into the crates last night.

While they opened their gifts, a variety of winter beanies this morning, Dean got to work on the topping. He peeled and chopped apples and tossed them into a frying pan on the stove with some butter. When the butter had melted, he added some sugar and stirred the contents of the pan before covering it.

He turned to find Sam wearing a solid red beanie holding a Santa hat that had _not_ been part of their gifts.

“You gotta wear one too,” Sam gestured at his head. “And since you’re playing Santa this month, I think this one is perfect.” Dean groaned, but let his brother tug the hat down on his head.

Cas, in a navy beanie that matched his pajamas, came over and snuggled into his side. “Thank you Dean.” He placed a kiss on the underside of Dean’s jaw.

“Grab my coffee babe, I gotta stir.”

Sam faked a retching sound.

“Shut up you giant child, or you’ll be having cereal for breakfast.” Dean pointed at him with his spoon before turning to the stove. Sam sat down at the table, sulking over his coffee.

The rest of breakfast prep was spent in companionable silence, Cas tucked to his side when he wasn’t stirring. The apples were ready, after a few sprinkles of cinnamon, just before the oven timer dinged. Dean grabbed a butter knife and a pot holder and waved Sam over.

“I want you to see this too.” He opened the oven and pulled out the rack. He quickly stuck the center of the dish and pulled it out. “See how the knife is just a little wet looking, but nothing is stuck to it? That’s called coming out clean. It means this is done. Grab the whipped cream out of the fridge Sammy.”

Dean pulled the dish out of the oven and set it on the stove. He sliced into the golden crust, cutting four even pieces. He transferred three onto plates and topped them generously with the hot apple mixture. He handed each man a plate before bringing his own to the table. Where he spooned a giant dollop of whipped cream on top before sitting down.

Sam groaned at his first bite. “How did you even learn to _do_ this. You had that recipe memorized.”

Dean just grinned around his full mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The recipe really is easy as it sounds. I use the one from my absolute favorite food blog (https://www.foodiewithfamily.com/finnish-oven-pancakes-pannukakku/ ) but there are a million out there. Some top the dish before cooking, which is nice, but this way, people can choose to top or not. It makes for a great breakfast when you want to look like you can cook, but you're pantry's mostly empty. :)


	17. December 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas in the village of Lebanon and smut in the shared dwelling of an angel and his hunter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr for @notfunnydean's SPN Advent Calendar Challenge 2018. Today’s prompt was "Warming up with Hot Cocoa."
> 
> This is my first long fic, and I'm really new to sharing my writing. If you find any errors, or just have feedback, please let me know. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Unfortunately, I don't own the characters or the bunker, but I can dream.

 

Lebanon, Kansas, like many tiny Midwestern towns, somehow managed to support three churches and one bar. With a population wavering between 200 and 400, it could hardly be described as ‘thriving,’ but it was surviving on its sole claim to fame: Geographical Center of the Contiguous United States. Unlike many tiny Midwestern towns, it was, for the most part, a live and let live place.

Though they’d been living here for several years, no one had asked where they lived. Barb at the post office didn’t question it when they’d requested a post office box. Glen at Hoss’s Antiques, Collectibles & Package Beer Store, didn’t question the amount of beer that three men purchased at a time. Mike, the clerk at Higby Brothers’ Gun Shop didn’t blink an eye at the ammunition that they went through...or the unloaded shells for that matter. It was the perfect home base for a family of hunters.

Lebanon wasn’t big on town picnics. They didn’t have a local summer fair or a harvest festival. What they did have, however, was a little Christmas in the village. Every year, the women of the Ladies’ Auxiliaries of the three churches teamed up to host the event. Residents and local businesses decorated to the nines, and the streets were lit well enough to turn off the street lights. On Main Street, right between the the post office and LaDow’s Supermarket/Variety Store and Cafe, they set up a small craft fair and offered hot cocoa and coffee to the residents for a couple of hours.

The Winchesters had never attended this event. They might be on a first name basis with the employees of some of the local businesses, but they weren’t really the ‘get chummy with the locals’ type.

Still, at 5:30 on December 17th, Dean was trying to get Sam and Cas into the Impala.  _ It’s like herding freakin’ kittens! _  “We’re doing Christmas this year, and that means we’re going to go drive around and look at all the pretty lights. We’ll survive one cup of crappy hot cocoa.” 

“Christo.” Sam muttered under his breath.

Dean pointed at his brother. “Get in the fuckin’ car Sammy, or so help me… ” He turned a threatening look on his angel. Cas held his hands up in surrender and grinned, shaking his head.

Sam opted for the seat behind his brother, “Because I know you want to hold hands with your  _ boyfriend _ , Dean.”

“Damned right. Don’t be jealous, bitch.”

“Jerk.” Dean held his hand out for the keys, Sam had used the Impala last. “Above the visor.”

Dean arched his brow.  _ We have a goddamn key rack for a reason. _ When he flipped the visor down, both the keys and a sprig of mistletoe fell into his lap. 

Sam laughed from the back seat. “I forgot I even put that there!”

Cas was staring at the mistletoe with his head tilted. Dean didn’t like the look in his eyes. Correction, he liked it, but not with his little brother sitting a couple of feet away. He snapped his fingers at his angel. “Lips are up here babe.”

Cas leaned in for a chaste kiss, not without a grin hinting at his ideas for later. 

Sam groaned and thumped his head on the window. “Not like you guys need any more encouragement.”

Dean just laughed, holding Cas close for a second. His angel plucked the mistletoe from his lap with decidedly more contact than was strictly necessary, and tucked it into the pocket of his new winter coat. 

The drive was quiet, the radio tuned low to a classic rock station playing predominantly Christmas songs. This time of year, it was full dark by six o’clock, and it was perfect for their plans. They drove slowly, street by street, admiring the way the lights glowed against the snow. Occasionally, someone would comment on a particularly garish or classy house, but generally, it was just peaceful admiration of the beauty of the season.

When they’d driven all of Lebanon’s few streets, they parked at Higby’s. They stopped briefly to admire the display of hunting rifles interspersed with brightly wrapped packages and Christmas lights in the front window, laughing that it could be what Christmas at Bobby’s house looked like, before strolling down Main Street. Dean and Cas, predictably, walked shoulder to shoulder, Sam trailing slightly behind them.

The “craft fair” was a small collection of folding tables squished under a canopy. They meandered through the tables, stopping to examine things here and there. Dean lingered at a table of baked goods curated by post-office-Barb for a moment. When he smiled at her and went to move away, Cas grabbed his elbow, stopping him. 

“I’ll take the pecan pie.” Cas had his wallet out. 

Barb smiled widely at him. “Don’t think we’ve seen you boys at this event before. You’ve been missing out, my pecan pie’s the best.”

“We generally spend Christmas....” Cas hesitated, “out of town with family. I’m glad we made it this year. Dean loves pie.” He gestured toward Dean.

Barb’s smile widened. “Well, my card’s taped to the bottom of the pie tin hon. Next time you’re needin’ to apologize, you just give me a call. I bet pie would be a sight more effective than flowers.” She handed Cas his change and a recycled shopping bag containing his pie. Cas returned her smile with a “thanks” and they moved on.

“Dean, what did she mean about the flowers?”

Sam leaned closer to Cas' shoulder and answered for him. “She was teasing you Cas. When you get into a fight with your girlfriend of wife or whatever, you get her flowers so she’s more likely to accept your apology.”

“But I have neither a girlfriend nor a wife.”

“That’s why she said you should apologize with pie.” Sam was grinning. Dean could feel the blush lighting up his cheeks. “She was guessing that your  _ boyfriend _ would appreciate pie more than flowers.”

“How would she reach that conclusion? I’ve made no outward signs of my affection for Dean.”

Sam was outright  _ giggling _ now. “Dude, are you kidding me? You might not be holding hands, but you guys are pretty obvious. I mean just the way you look at each other…” He trailed off, still laughing to himself.

Cas looked like he wanted to continue the conversation, but Dean was done with the topic. “Let’s go warm up with some hot cocoa, yeah?”

~~~~~

Three hours, two frozen pizzas, and one action movie later, Dean was ready for some quiet time with his angel. He loved Sam, he really did, but the three of them had been hanging out since breakfast, and the constant teasing was starting to get on his nerves. Even if he did have, as Cas had pointed out,  _ years _ of it stored up, Dean wasn’t prepared to let him catch up during his first week of actually  _ having _ Cas.

“Come on babe. Let’s hit the hay. If you want to watch another movie, you can do it in our room.” He grabbed his angel’s wrists and tugged him up off the couch.

Sam raised a brow. Cas cocked his head.

“What?”

Sam shook his head. “I don’t think I need to be a part of the ‘our room’ conversation you’re about to have. G’night guys.” He waved at them and headed toward his room.

Dean looked over at Cas. “Are we gonna have a conversation Cas?”

“I was under the impression that you were allowing me to share  _ your _ room Dean, specifically, your bed. All of my belongings are still in  _ my _ room.”

“That’s a yes then.” Dean sighed. “Your ‘belongings’ should be in  _ our _ room. There’s plenty of space for both of our crap.”

“I  _ have  _ enjoyed sharing your bed.” His lips tilted up a little.

“I like waking up with you.” Dean could feel himself blushing. Talking about  _ feelings _  without the benefit of the spell was  _ hard. _ “If you’re going to sleep, I’d rather you sleep with me.”

Cas was full on smiling at this point. “What about when I don't sleep? You don’t like it when I watch you sleep. I believe you said it was ‘creepy’.”

Dean wasn’t really sure what to say to that. On one hand, it’s pretty creepy knowing somebody is just staring at you in your sleep. On the other hand, waking up to  _ Cas _ staring at him the other morning had not been  _ at all _ creepy. He just shrugged.  “It’s not so bad when I know you’re going to be there before I wake up.” 

Cas nodded, as if this is a perfectly logical explanation for Dean’s change of outlook.

“Cas, just...go get your stuff and put it in our room, okay? I’ll set up that bee movie you like.”  _ Stay, please, just say you’ll stay... _

“The animated one?”

“Yup.”

“I’ll be quick.”

_ That was easier than I thought it would be. _

~~~~~

Dean was disappointed when Cas walked into his room lugging the laundry basket of his crap, comprised mostly of his recent gifts, having already changed into his borrowed pajamas. He’d learned, over the course of his year with Lisa that watching your partner getting ready for bed was an act of intimacy that he really liked .

_ Guess I’ll have to teach him the joys of sharing a room the same way I learned. _

While Cas tucked his transferred his dirty clothes to the hamper with Dean’s, Dean stripped out of his shirts and tossed them his direction.

When Cas moved to add his few tchotchkes on the desk with with Dean’s, Dean leaned over him to deposit his watch.

When Cas sat on the end of the bed to pull off his socks, Dean stripped out of his pants, carefully positioning himself in the angels line of sight. He made sure Cas was watching when he leaned over to pull off his own socks, gather them and his pants together, and walk them over to the hamper. 

“Go ahead and start the movie babe. I’m just gonna wash my face.”

Still clad only in his boxer briefs, he leaned over the sink to wash his face and brush his teeth. Cas hadn’t started the movie.

When he turned around, Cas was propped up against the headboard just watching him. Without saying a word, he crawled up the bed to join him, grabbing the remote and starting the movie before snuggling up to Cas’ side. Cas turned to face the TV.

Dean adjusted his position so his leg was thrown ‘casually’ over his angel’s crotch and his face was pressed into the side of his neck. He huffed out a contented sigh, dramatically demonstrating how  _ comfortable _ he was. Cas chuckled and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

_ Wonder what it would take to get him to forget about the movie... _

Taking a page straight from the angel’s playbook, Dean started to lightly run his fingers over Cas’ skin. 

He ran his palms over taught abs, enjoying the feel of firm muscle under warm skin. He traced the barely discernible lines of the block of Enochian above his hip. His angel really was a work of art. 

He moved his exploration further north, running his hands over the springy hair of Cas’ chest. The angel huffed and leaned forward. He pulled his shirt off and tossed it toward the end of the bed before he lay back down and held his arm out for Dean to reclaim his previous position. Dean went right back to running his fingers over Cas’ pecs. He nuzzled his face back into the crook of his angel’s neck, placing a light kiss there.

When Dean’s wandering hand encountered a nipple, he stopped to pluck at it. Cas whimpered. Dean grinned into his neck when Cas tilted his head to press a light kiss to the top of his head.  _ Mission accomplished. _

Having gained Cas’ attention, Dean turned up the heat on his game. So far, with the very notable exception of grooming Cas’ wings, their ‘sexual contact’ had been all fast and dirty and hot. He loved that Cas was letting him take his time to learn his body. 

Dean parted his lips and licked gently at Cas’ neck. The angel dragged out an open mouth sigh and tilted his head to allow him access to more skin. Dean took the opportunity to suck lightly on the tender skin over his pulse, he could feel Cas’ breath catch in his throat. He moved his arm further across his lover’s chest to lightly flick his other nipple with just the edge of his thumb, earning him a muted groan.

Dean rolled over to straddle his angel, bringing their lips together for a lingering kiss before pulling away gently to kiss the underside of his jaw. He leaned back a little, meeting Cas’ eyes. He pupils were blown wide as he stared up at Dean.

“Okay?” Dean asked. Cas nodded up at him.

Dean went back to work, tracing his lips down the other side of Cas’ neck, pausing to suck a small bruise into his clavicle before moving further down. He retraced the journey his hands had taken, smoothing his lips over Cas’ chest. He gave each nipple attention, teasing them tight with his tongue before trailing down the center line of his abs. He mouthed over Cas’ tattoo, first kissing the inverted triangle before sneaking a taste with the tip of his tongue. His mouth wandered back to the middle, dipping into the angel’s navel before following the trail of hair down to the edge of his pajama bottoms. 

He leaned up and brought his hands to the band of Cas’ pants before looking up to find his lover watching him intently. “Still okay?” Again, Cas nodded.

Dean tugged gently at Cas’ pants until his angel lifted his hips so they could be removed. Dean dragged them down his legs slowly, following them down and off the bed. He skinned his own boxer briefs off before taking a moment to just  _ look _ at Cas. His angel was spread out on  _ their  _ bed, still propped up slightly on the headboard. His arms were resting at his sides, hands bunched into loose fists. His cock, hard and flushed, was resting on his stomach. Dean licked his lips and glanced back up to meet Cas’ eyes. The blue was nearly completely edged out by the black of his pupils.  _ He is so fucking beautiful. _

Dean knelt back on the bed, dragging his palms over the hair from ankles up the corded muscles of his calves. He placed an open mouthed kiss just above the inside of each knee before crawling up further to explore thickly muscled thighs with both hands and mouth. Cas’ sounds of pleasure grew in volume and urgency, the closer Dean got to his groin. As soon as he could reach, he had his hands in Dean’s hair, urging him to look up. 

“ _ Please _ . I want you to fuck me please.”

Dean pressed his face into Cas’ thigh and moaned. “Fuck Cas.  _ Fuck _ .” Dean drew a deep breath, and released it slowly. “Soon, I promise baby, soon, but not tonight.” He spoke the words into the angel’s skin. He punctuated it with a kiss to the sharp dip of his hip bone, dragging forth a low whimper.

“ _ Dean, pleease _ .”

“Just let me take care of you angel.” It was a whisper, a prayer.

He ran the tip of his nose up Cas’ cock, followed it with the tip of his tongue before settling into a better position to mouth at the leaking head. He teased with a broad lap of his tongue then took him into his mouth slowly, teasing at his slit. Cas’ grip on his hair tightened, his hips jerked, and he  _ moaned _ Dean’s name.

Dean licked his palm and up his fingers and wrapped his slick hand around the base of his angel’s prick, letting Cas thrust up into the motion but keeping his lips wrapped firmly around the head of his cock, pressing his tongue to the sensitive underside.

Cas didn’t release his grip on Dean’s hair as he settled into a rhythm of thrusting up into Dean’s mouth. Dean met each upthrust by sinking down with his fist and mouth. He used his tongue to keep pressure on the underside of Cas’ cock, and worked to relax his throat, gradually letting the angel thrust deeper into his mouth. His angel was not quiet in his pleasure, his chanted chorus of “Fuck, Dean, baby, pleease baby, fuck” was punctuated by increasingly loud moans and the occasional deep whine.

When his angel’s thrusts started to become more chaotic, and his hands tightened in his hair, Dean breathed in deep through his nose. On the next upward jerk of his angel's hips, Dean slid his mouth down, down, moving his hand to the very base of Cas’ cock to take his entire length into his mouth and throat. Cas’ entire body jackknifed, his knees jerking and sprawling wide, his abdomen pulling into a tight crunch, and his hands clenching in Dean’s hair almost painfully as he came. 

He’d been expecting it, sort of, but Dean had to focus to not gag. He pulled away slightly though still licking and sucking gently, and worked to swallow even as his angel continued to pulse in his mouth. When Cas had relaxed back into the pillows, Dean barely had time for a deep breath before Cas pulled him up by the hair for a dirty kiss.  

The taste of his angel in his mouth, the press of Cas’ tongue along his own, the tiny sharp pull of fingers in his hair, the rumble of a lingering moan in the chest below him, the blissful pressure of hip bone on his dripping cock head...Dean yanked his head back with a wordless shout, his own release shooting up the side of his angel’s ribs and onto the mattress as he rode out his orgasm against Cas' taught abdomen. 

He let his weight rest back onto his angel and dug his face into Cas’ neck, trying to calm his breathing. Before Cas, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d come so hard, felt so thoroughly  _ wrung out _ . 

“Dean?” Cas was stroking his fingers gently through his hair now, soothing his tender scalp with his light touch.

“Hmmm?” 

“I like your definition of taking it slow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really, really need a beta reader or seven. I get so nervous about posting smut that I read it over and over until it becomes this mass of really unsexy words and I have to force myself to just leave it alone. When I post it, I have a mini panic attack because I'm reasonably positive by that point that it is so terrible that everyone will hate it and stop reading my work.


	18. December 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun in the snow, and a little more smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr for @notfunnydean's SPN Advent Calendar Challenge 2018. Today’s prompt was "Snowball fight? It's war."
> 
> This is my first long fic, and I'm really new to sharing my writing. If you find any errors, or just have feedback, please let me know. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Unfortunately, I don't own the characters or the bunker, but I can dream.

He loved waking up like this, on his belly with one knee hitched up a little and with Cas’ weight fitted halfway over him, a leg thrown over to press behind his bent one. It made him feel... _ protected _ . He always felt safer, slept better, in the bunker than in a nameless hotel, but like this, even naked, it was like nothing to could get to him.

_ One week til Christmas. _

Dean lingered on the thought, trying not to let it dampen the warm comfort of the moment.  _ Maybe, even when there’s no rule he has to stay, he’ll stay because he wants to.  _

_ Or maybe you’ll be back to sleeping alone. _ Evidently his inner demon was awake as well. Dean sighed. Cas, as if in response to his darkening mood, tightened his hold and snuggled his face a little deeper into his hair. 

“I don’t wanna get up yet.” It was mumbled into the back of his head.

“If we don’t, Sam will have Lucky Charms for breakfast, and you know how he gets.”

Cas huffed, but rolled off of Dean, dragging the covers with him.

“How about you catch a few more minutes of beauty sleep while I go start the coffee? Sound better?” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Cas’ forehead. 

“Much.” 

He could feel Cas’ eyes on him as he sat on the edge of the bed to stretch, as he dug out a pair of pajama bottoms and a t-shirt and pulled them on.  _ Another lesson in the joys of cohabitation. _ Dean smiled to himself. He walked over for a quick kiss before heading to the door. “Ten minutes Cas, or I’m sending Sam to come get you.”

~~~~~

Cas dragged Dean’s pillow to his face and inhaled deeply, relishing the smell of his hunter. Without Dean, he was much less thrilled with the idea of a few extra minutes in bed. He sighed at his own moping and dragged himself out of bed. It took him a minute to find his pajama pants at the bottom of the bed and another to find a clean shirt and socks. Still, he was in the kitchen well within the ten minute limit.

Dean was at the stove, his soul glowing and sparking, evidence that he’d spelled the morning’s breakfast. Sam was at the table, hunched over his coffee, and didn’t even look up at Cas’ quiet entrance. Dean glanced over at him and grinned, before sliding a cup of coffee in his direction and returning to the two frying pans he was tending. “Grab a seat babe, This is almost ready.”

The term of endearment made his heart clench a little, even after hearing it multiple times over the past several days. He knew it was cliched, but it didn’t matter. It indicated their change in status; it replaced the previous ‘buddy’ that he’d hated. It had stung each time, a pointed reminder that Dean saw him as a brother, when Cas’ feelings were decidedly unbrotherly. Babe was a soothing reminder that Dean loved him.

He sat at the table quietly, not bothering to interrupt Sam’s half-aware coffee consumption, watching Dean move the scrambled eggs and sausage to plates carefully. He smiled as one was set before him, and Dean leaned in to drop a kiss on his nose before setting a plate in front of Sam. When Dean sat down next to him with his own plate and coffee, Cas bumped their shoulders together gently. “Thank you for breakfast.”

Dean smiled at him around a mouthful of eggs.

“Is this  _ turkey _ sausage?” Sam’s question sounded half indignant and half awed. The moment broken, he turned back to his plate to take a bite of the food in question.

“Yeah, you’re always saying it’s healthier so I thought we’d give it a shot. It’s not terrible. You’re not gonna talk me into turkey bacon though. That shit’s just wrong.”

Cas grinned. He had no opinion on the matter, as his actual taste memory of breakfast foods was pretty limited, but he was enjoying his meal. It was humorous to watch the brothers pick at each other.

They ate the simple meal quickly and Dean stood to retrieve their daily gifts. He’d noticed the pile of carefully wrapped gifts in the bottom of Dean’s closet last night, and was glad that the hunter had gotten into the habit of placing the gifts in the evening. He didn’t like the idea of waking to find Dean’s side of the bed empty.

They unwrapped their gifts as Dean cleared away their plates. Sam, a few moments ahead of him, was already unfolding his pile of heathered red canvas to reveal a new duffel. They were similar in material and size to the bags they hunters normally carried, but they were clearly intended to appear more like luggage than military surplus. Cas’s unfolded his own bag, in weathered blue, and looked up at Dean.

“I just want you to be able to have normal stuff when we’re on a case too Cas, so you’re not tromping around the woods in dress pants while we look like ‘lumberjacks’. You should have enough clothes now to actually pack a bag.” He grinned at his own use of air quotes.  _ And when you’re gone again, I can borrow YOUR shirts and they’ll smell like you. _

His hunter’s stray thought caught him off guard. Why would Dean think he was leaving? Was he planning on sending him away again? He forcefully pushed the idea away.  _ I will not jump to conclusions based on something I was never meant to hear. _ Still, maybe he should talk to Dean later. His hunter needed to know that he had no intentions to leave.

“Thank you Dean.”

“Yeah, thanks man. We’ll finally be able to carry our bags into a hotel without looking like we just got out of basic.”

“Got myself one in green, but it doesn’t look army issue either. I made sure they were as tough as our old ones. I mean, there’s a reason we usually use the military crap, it holds up to years in the trunk, but these just seemed a little, I don’t know, classier I guess? Like I could pull it out of the trunk in my fed suit even. Got a couple of black ones for equipment too. Baby’s trunk just got a whole makeover.” 

He smiled broadly at Dean. He liked the idea of having a bag in the Impala, liked that Dean took the effort to give him a space in their home-away-from-home just as he’d done here in the bunker. “She’s always been a classy lady, Dean. It’s about time you treated her with some respect.” He teased. He knew full well the amount of care that Dean showed his car.

“Baby’s been treated just fine. Hunter ladies know that with gear it’s function before fashion.” He grinned at Cas. 

“Yeah, but with you, she only ever got function. Poor girl.” Sam never missed an opportunity to poke at his brother.

“Alright, alright. That’s enough. Let’s get this cleaned up and get dressed. We got a date with the snow in the backyard. Cas has never had a snowball fight.” He looked gleeful.

Cas tilted his head. “We’re going to fight? Is this like sparring?” He’d heard the phrase before, but he was drawing a blank in his memory.

“C’mon. Sam can get the dishes. I’ll explain while we change.”

~~~~~

He was regretting introducing this particular winter sport to Cas. He  _ knew _ he was a Warrior of the Lord. He  _ knew _ he was a master tactician. He  _ knew _ he’d observed warfare for centuries. What he  _ hadn’t _ known was that all of those things would be applied to turn a kids game into an outright war. 

They’d started out playfully tossing snowballs at each. They’d each taken a few body shots and laughed them off. It was when Sam landed a particularly wet shot to the back of Cas’ head that things had taken a turn. His angel’s eyebrow had slid up, and he’d gotten a wicked look on his face just before all hell had broken loose.

Now, two hours later, they’d each claimed a strategic base, and were essentially taking turns stealthily bombarding each other. It was fun, but he was getting  _ cold _ . Suddenly, Sam was behind him, shoveling snow down the back of his jacket. He couldn’t contain his startled cry. Cas was before him in seconds. 

“Are you hurt?” The concerned look on Cas’ face had him leaning closer to his angel.

“No, he just surprised me. ‘M okay.”

“I think it might be time to go in. I’ve just realized that your body temperature has dropped. You’re nearly hypothermic.” He glanced at Sam for a moment. “So is Sam. We should go in and warm up. I know  you are adverse to tea, but maybe we could have some cocoa after we change?”

Dean didn’t argue about being shepherded back to the bunker under his angel’s arm. 

~~~~~

Dean wasn’t sure how the conversation had started. They’d showered, had a quick lunch, which had included cocoa at Cas’ insistence that their body temperatures had still not returned to normal, and had settled in to watch a few movies, breaking only to make more sandwiches for dinner. Now, somehow, they were arguing about the practicality of Cas’ duffel. Specifically, how it would get from place to place. 

“It’s not like Cas usually travels with us on hunts. He’s kind of got his own frequent flyer thing going on. Is he just going to carry it around with him?” Sam looked like he was picturing the angel popping in and out of places, duffel hanging from his shoulder.

“I enjoy traveling with you, it has just not always been the most effective use of our time.” Cas responded defensively.

Dean cut in. “It doesn’t matter.  When you're gone again, I'll just be sure to throw it in the trunk with mine just in case.” He’d meant it to end the conversation, but Cas looked... _ hurt _ .

“Now that I have you...Dean I can’t imagine leaving unless I am forced.”

“Unless heaven needs you.”  _ Or you just find someplace better to be. _

Sam stood up and waved his hands in front of him. “I’m out. I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

Both Dean and Cas watched him leave.

Cas turned back to him, eyebrow raised. “I have ignored your thoughts on this matter out of courtesy. Clearly that was a mistake.”

_ And clearly, I’ve pissed him off. _ It was never good when his angel went formal in his speech. It generally indicated that he was either embarrassed or angry. Add in the eyebrow, and there was no question between the two.

“Fine, but if we’re going to ‘talk’ about this, do you mind if we take it to our room? I don’t think we need an audience.” Cas didn’t question him, just strutted out of the room.

_ Shit, shit, shit. _

~~~~~

Cas strode down the hall, sensing his hunter following him at a slower pace. When he reached their room, he paced the narrow area at the foot of the bed. When Dean had joined him and closed the door, he pointed at the bed. “Sit.”

Dean’s eyebrow shot up, but he didn’t make a comment, merely followed the direction he’d been given. Cas knelt before him and rested his hands on the hunter’s knees.

“I have tried, for years, to ‘stay out of your head,’ I have tried. I have never, not once since you first asked, intentionally looked into your mind to see what you were thinking or feeling. But we share a  _ bond _ Dean. From the moment I touched your soul in the pit, we’ve shared a bond, and sometimes, you think very loudly. Sometimes, you pray without intending to. And I’ve ignored those stray prayers, and the thoughts I’ve overheard, because you  _ asked _ me to. But I hear them. I  _ heard  _ you praying for me to stay while you’re telling me to go. I  _ heard _ you praying that I’d come help you while you told me you and Sam could handle a case on your own. I  _ heard _ you praying for a life together, while you act like you don't care if I stay or go.   And it is so  _ human _ to want one thing but say another, and I know it isn’t lying, but it’s so hard, Dean. Every time, it gave me this moment of hope that you might, just  _ might _ actually want the same things as I did. That you  _ might _ need me as much as I need you. That hope, it  _ hurt _ , because I couldn’t  _ do  _ anything about it Dean. Because you specifically  _ asked _ me not to.”

They’d had their gazes fixed on each other, but Dean’s eyes slid to the side for a moment. “Cas, I didn’t-”

“It doesn’t matter. I had to leave sometimes Dean. Sometimes, wanting you but not having you was just too hard. And those little moments of hope would pile up like a weight and I had to get away because I was afraid that if I didn’t leave, I would tell you that I love you. I would grab you and kiss you. I would  _ confess _ . I couldn’t let myself do that because I was so afraid that what you were  _ saying _ was the truth, and what I was  _ hearing _ was my own longing. I was afraid that if I gave in, that I would lose you.” He rested his head on his hunter’s knee, breathed deeply to regain his calm. 

“I was afraid too Cas. Afraid that you didn’t want me. Afraid that if I let myself love you, that you’d get taken away from me too.” Dean was petting his head soothingly.  _ Afraid that you didn’t want to stay. _

Cas couldn’t tell if the last was an intentional prayer, or merely another loud thought, but it didn’t matter. He lifted his head to meet Dean’s eyes again.

“I told you  _ years  _ ago Dean, after everyone else you love is gone, I’ll still be here. I’m telling you now that even after you’ve died, I’ll still be here, loving you. I will find you, heaven or hell or purgatory, I will always find you Dean. Even death hasn’t managed to keep us apart.”

It was like watching a curtain be pushed to the side to reveal a sunny day. He’d never seen Dean’s soul flare so brightly. It wasn’t a shower of sparks this time, it was like a raging wildfire. As if this doubt and fear had been an invisible dimmer on the hunter’s soul since they’d met. It was  _ awesome _ in the truest sense of the word, and it made his breath catch in his throat even as his hunter was dragging him forward and wrapping his arms around his neck.

“Wish that was a two way street baby. Cause I’d have fessed up a long time ago if I wasn’t so worried you fly away for good.”  _ I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry that I kept us apart all this time. That I ever let you doubt how much I need you with me always, Cas. I love you. I’ve always loved you.  _ “I need you Cas.”

“I love you Dean, more than should be possible. So much more than I ever _believed_ it possible to love someone.

“I love you too, but that’s not what I meant. I need  _ you _ .”  _ I need to feel you. I need you in me so deep you’re part of me. I need to know that even when we’re apart, you’re still with me. _ “Can we do that Cas? Please?”

He didn’t need to ask Dean if he was sure, there was no hesitation in his words or his thoughts. He climbed to his feet, Dean following, finally relaxing arms from their chokehold on his neck. Cas pulled his head in, not for a kiss, but just to rest together forehead to forehead and nose to nose. 

Dean huffed out a little laugh. “I’ve thought about this too, you know? Like our first kiss.”

“Yeah? Will you tell me?” 

Dean shook his head in reply. Cas brought their hips and bellies together, just standing close. “Should I guess?” Dean just grinned and shook his head again.

“Did you touch yourself while you thought about me?” 

Dean’s grin turned evil. “More than once.” His hunter nipped at his lip.

Cas groaned. “Fuck, Dean, tell me,  _ please _ .”

Dean ground their hips together. “All those nights you were gone, I had a lot of time to think about how this would go.” He whispered it into the skin of Cas’ neck, then pressed a kiss there.

Cas moved his hands to his hunter’s hips, holding him closer, encouraging the grind. “Did you want me like this? So ready for you that I have to use my grace to keep myself from tearing your clothes from you body?” He punctuated his question with another slow grind of his pelvis.

Dean bit his earlobe. “Sometimes I’d strip down and lay myself out, get myself all lubed up and open for you so you didn’t even have to do that. I was just waiting for you.”

Cas couldn’t stifle the groan that image evoked. He started to tug at his hunter’s shirts.  _ Always with the layers! _

“Can’t you just mojo them away like you did the other day?”

Cas did, and he could feel the vibration of Dean’s moan on his neck. “I was trying to demonstrate patience.”

If felt like Dean’s hands were everywhere at once, his neck, his face, his shoulder, his hips. “Overrated. I’ve been thinking about this since last night.” Cas couldn’t decide if the flush on his hunter’s face was arousal or embarrassment at his words. He pulled back a little to meet Dean’s eyes.

“Oh really?” He saw emerald eyes follow the arch of his eyebrow.

“Yeah, cause you know what was always the same when I fantasized about our first time?”

“Cumming so hard you blacked out?” He couldn’t resist teasing.

“That too, but Cas, you were always looking at me when you pushed in.  _ Every fucking time _ , you’d look up at me and then sink in deep.”

“ _ Fuck, Deean.”  _ Cas squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stem his body’s reaction to those words. He drew in a ragged breath and released it slowly. “I wanted to take my time with you. I wanted to kiss every freckle I could find, trace every scar with my tongue. Open you up slowly until you were begging for me.”

_ Next time _ . Dean’s thought was equal parts prayer and promise as he pulled away. “Next time.” He turned away to dig in his nightstand. 

Cas took the moment to admire his hunter, and tighten up his grip on his self control. If he  _ did _ have to use his grace to keep himself from ending this before this was even started, no one ever had to know.

Dean turned back to him, lube in hand, and looking more hesitant than he had since he’d come into the room. “I, uh, may have given you a head start in the shower earlier.” It was almost a mumble.

When it clicked in Cas’ brain exactly what that might have entailed, his work on regaining his control was for nothing. He groaned loudly. “Dean, you can’t  _ say _ things like that. Now, all I can picture is you in the shower with your fingers in your ass and your hand on your cock. I’ve  _ had  _  that wet dream.”

His hunter’s embarrassment was replaced with a mixture of pride and lust. “Bet there was more to it than that. Maybe we can try that sometimes.”

“Shower sex is not for beginners.” Hell, he was new enough to the joys of showering that masturbating in the shower was risky business, everything was so  _ slippery _ . 

Dean laughed out loud for a moment, and then managed to look concerned. “Umm, you know what you’re doing right?”

“You haven’t complained about my research methods so far.”

“Fuck no, I was just checking. There’s a lot of sexy things that you don’t want to rush into without ummm…” He trailed off.

“Get on the bed Dean, you can tell me if I need to study more when we’re done.”

Dean crawled onto the bed with a grin over his shoulder.

Cas like that it was playful like this. Too often he and Dean were forced to be so serious. Here, in the quiet of their bedroom, they could laugh and tease. He tossed the lube at Dean’s hip before crawling onto the bed over his hunter.

~

Dean was still laughing when Cas placed his knee on the bed, but watching his angel crawl over his body like a jungle cat had the lust flaring deep in his gut again. When he paused to tease at his nipples with his stubbled jaw, Dean was groaning. 

“C’mon Cas, please? We’re never gonna make it to the starting gate if you keep that up.”

Cas grinned at him, but grabbed the lube. He squeezed a generous measure onto his fingers and rubbed at it with his thumb before lowering his hand.

Dean’s eyes were shut before his angel had reached his hip. It was one thing to fantasize, but in truth, he’d only ever had his own fingers in his ass, nothing else.

Cas leaned over and pressed a kiss to each of his eyelids as he began smoothing circles around his hole. “Talk to me Dean.” 

_ Fuck, I love it when your voice gets all gravely like that. _

“I’m starting to think I might have a prayer kink.” His eyes flew open to meet Cas’ at that admission, just as Cas pressed in with his his middle finger. He groaned, not able to get words from his brain to his mouth for a minute while he took in the sensation of that single slick digit sliding into him. “Pray to me Dean.” The angel’s voice was at odds with the request, the tone breathless, but the words chaste.

_ Cas, Cas, please.  _ His angel bit his lip. Dean couldn’t drag his eyes away. Cas’ finger was moving easily in and out, and he started a gentle side to side motion. Dean sprawled his legs open.  _ More. _

His angel groaned and leaned over to suck Dean’s bottom lip between his teeth as he circled a second finger around Dean’s rim.  _ Yes, please, another. Need you.  _ His angel’s response was immediate, gently pressing in with his index finger and biting down on Dean’s lip before releasing it.

“It’s like you’re touching my grace, I can  _ feel _ it when you pray to me like that.” Cas nipped at his neck, and he jolted his hips a little. The motion changed the angle of Cas’ fingers just enough to nudge his prostate, turning the little stutter into a full thrust.

“Ugnh.”  _ There, please, more, Caass.  _ At least his prayer was marginally more coherent than his speech.

Cas crooked his fingers, pressing lightly up with intention on his next stroke, and Dean thrust up to meet him.  _ Please Cas, please more, please need. _

He could feel his angel’s hard length on his thigh now, the tiniest grinding motion mirroring the motions of his fingers. He was scissoring them now, working him open less gently. 

“Pleease. Baby, Cas, please.” Cas’s face was pressed into his neck, and Dean could feel his ragged breathing a muted groans. Knowing he’d done that, was testing his angel’s control already, ramped up his desperation.  _ Need you Cas, need you baby. _

Cas pressed in a third finger, and there was a quick little burn with the stretch now. He hissed in a breath through his teeth before relaxing into it. Thankful now that he’d taken some time in the shower earlier, or they most certainly wouldn’t have made it past prep. 

“Now Cas. Now  _ please _ .”  _ I’m ready, please, please now. _

Cas pulled his fingers out and fumbled the lube bottle for a moment before squirting it directly onto his cock. He hissed a little, but wrapped his hand around himself to spread the slick.

Baby, yes,  _ please _ , need,  _ Cas _ Dean’s words and prayers were jumbled together as he watched his angel’s fist.  _ So fucking empty without you. _

Cas’ eyes shot up to Dean’s and they both drew in a ragged breath.  _ Yes, like that. Looking at me just like that. _

Cas grabbed his hip with his dry hand and guided his cock to Dean’s rim with the other. His eyes never left Dean’s,  _ staring right into my soul. Angel. My angel. _

Cas pressed in slowly, so very slowly, and three fingers is  _ not  _ the same as Cas’ dick, but the sting of the stretch was lost in the knowledge that it was his angel. His angel pressing his legs back for room, his angel stretching him open, his angel sinking in deeper and deeper until his hip bones were digging into Dean’s thighs. 

They didn’t move or breathe or babble or pray, they  _ stared  _ and the world stopped.

_ Finally, finally, fucking finally whole. _

The moment was broken and they moaned in unison. 

“So  _ tight, hot _ . I didn’t know.” Every muscle of Cas’ body was straining, taught with the effort to keep still, just gripping at Dean’s hips. The sting had eased into low burn that was lighting his insides on fire. Dean tilted his hips up a little, testing, before pulling them back away. He repeated the tiny thrusting motion a couple more times. 

_ Move.  _

Cas’ first few thrusts were tentative, and Dean could read the concentration on his face. When Dean started to match his motion, he loosened up, lengthened his stroke. It was like his dick had been made specifically for this, gliding against his prostate with every slow drag in and out, and Dean could feel his body relaxing further, the burn fading, leaving only the rolling pleasure. 

“So good. My Dean. So perfect.” It was whispered softly, like a prayer of thanks, and it soothed an ache in Dean’s soul he hadn’t even realized was there to hear his angel claim him.

Cas tugged his hips closer, adjusting his angle, and leaned over Dean. He pressed their foreheads together like he’d done earlier, joining them from head to hip, trapping Dean’s cock between their sweaty abs and  _ fuck _ .

He could feel it tingling in his spine, coiling in his belly, that ache. “Please, please, pleease.”  _ More, faster, need.  _

He couldn’t do anything but cling to Cas as his angel pumped in and out, near constant perfect pressure on that spot a mind numbing counterpoint to the bumping of hard muscle against his cock.  _ Cas, Cas, I love you, love, Cas, love you, I love you. _ Every second was an hour, and he could feel his muscles tensing, his fingers tightening on Cas’ shoulders, his back arching into his angel, the first shot of his release like lightning, whiting out his vision until there was only Cas, Cas’ eyes still peering into his soul, Cas’ fingers digging into his hips, Cas hips crashing into him again and again and again and then the heat of him spilling over. 

“Dean, Dean,  _ Dean _ ” a chant, louder than the pulse in his ears.

It’s almost too much. The slide of skin on skin as they slowed, as Cas leaned down to kiss his neck, his shoulder, any skin he can reach, but he’s whispering between kisses. _ I love you. I’m here. Never leaving. My Dean. _ It was the most perfect moment, and he never wanted it to end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having a debate about taking the graphic part of the smut out (maybe to put into a work in this collection?) because I'm not sure if it helps or hurts the story. Thoughts?


	19. December 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short domestic fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr for @notfunnydean's SPN Advent Calendar Challenge 2018. Today’s prompt was "Christmas Movie References." 
> 
> This is my first long fic, and I'm really new to sharing my writing. If you find any errors, or just have feedback, please let me know. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Unfortunately, I don't own the characters or the bunker, but I can dream.

Sam wasn’t sure what he’d be walking into this morning. He’d escaped before they actually got into the argument he’d seen brewing, but depending on how Dean had handled it, he figured  was looking at one of two situations: 

A) Dean played it off as nothing, and Cas let him, in which case Case would be in passive aggressive angel dick mode this morning while Dean pretended nothing was wrong. Not fun.

B) Dean got pissed because Cas  _ did _ leave all the time, and Cas would be hurt that Dean didn’t recognize that sometimes he  _ had _ to leave to deal with responsibilities elsewhere. In that case, Dean would be pissy and Cas would be pouting. Even less fun.

He sighed and turned into the kitchen and froze. In the middle of the kitchen, in their pajamas, with Cas’ arms around his brother’s shoulders and Dean’s slung around the angel’s waist, with their foreheads resting together, Dean and Cas were dancing. Just gently moving back and forth to some Christmas song he couldn’t identify playing quietly from the speaker of Dean’s phone.

Evidently, there was an option he hadn’t considered. He couldn’t fathom what might have actually taken place, but here they were, not angry or pouty, just dancing in the kitchen.

He dug his phone out of his pocket and snapped a picture. 

The shutter sound of the capture caused the couple to glance over, but they didn’t stop their sway.

“Coffee’s ready. Got a few minutes left on breakfast.” Dean said, before tilting his head back to Cas’. 

Sam grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. He didn’t know what to think. “I’ve never seen you dance.”

“You’ve seen me dance plenty of times.”

“No, I’ve seen you ham it up to a few classic rock songs. I’ve never seen you dance. With someone.”

“That counts!” He protested, but then more quietly, “Been a long time since I wanted to dance with someone.”

The timer on Dean’s phone went off, interrupting the song, and the two separated. Cas retrieved their coffees and joined Sam at the table while Dean did a knife check on the pie pan in the oven then pulled it out. He cut it before setting it on a pot holder on the table. He gathered plates and silverware and sat down next to Cas. 

He dished up their plates. “It’s a frittata. Plenty of veggies in there for you Sammy, and some cheese.”

“You make frittatas?”

"I know I make a mean omelette. This is like that but way easier, and everyone gets to eat at the same time.”

“You dance in the kitchen, you bake, and you make frittata.” He took a bite, closed his eyes for a second, and smiled. “Good frittata. It’s like you got body swapped or something.”

Dean looked up at him, his brows drawing together.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way, it’s just, I’ve known you all my life, and I don’t remember you ever being this relaxed. It’s really nice.”

“You try bein’ relaxed when you’re ten and you’re trying to manage a food budget and a six year old without family services noticing.” It wasn’t sarcastic, just a statement of fact.

“I know, you were a great parent Dean. But it’s...it’s just really nice to see you  _ happy _ . Really happy, not just putting on a good front, or celebrating a good hunt or whatever.

Dean looked over at his angel lovingly, and bumped their shoulders together. “Lotsa reasons to be happy these days. World’s not ending, everybody’s safe at home together, and it’s Christmas.”

“Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before. Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store. Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more!” Sam said quietly.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “I’ll do you one better ‘Christmas isn’t just a day, it’s a frame of mind.’”

Sam smiled, Dean, king of movie references, quoting  _ Miracle On 34th Street _ instead of _ Die Hard _ . Would wonders never cease?

Dean stood and gathered their empty plates, setting them in the sink before collecting their gifts and dropping them on the table, two for each.

Based on the size and shape of the packages, the contents weren’t a surprise, dvd’s. Sam unwrapped  _ How the Grinch Stole Christmas _ and  _ Home Alone _ while Cas got  _ The Polar Express _ and  _ Love Actually _ . Sam smiled his thanks at his brother and Cas leaned in for a kiss.

Sam faked a disgusted groan. “Ugh. Too much sap for me. I was thinking of going Christmas shopping?” It was a statement and a question for Dean.

“Just be home for dinner. I was thinking we could have finger food in the rec room and a Christmas movie marathon.”

“I’ll be home by 6.”

“Better be or we’ll start without ya.” Dean brought the leftover casserole to the counter, glanced up and sighed theatrically. “Don’t mind me, I’ll just be hanging around the mistletoe, waiting to be kissed.” Cas was moving toward him before he’d finished speaking.

“Dude, did you just quote  _ Love Actually _ ? Isn’t that a chick flick? Didn’t you say it was too lovey dovey when I tried to watch it at the hotel that one time?” 

“‘If you look for it, I've got a sneaky feeling you'll find that love is actually all around’ Sammy.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, apologies that this one is a little short. I got really stuck on 18, so I was behind, and then I spent most of my free time having some work done on an old tattoo. Seriously, I'm going to write about tattoos at some point after this story. Anyway, here we are. 
> 
> Quotes included from "How the Grinch Stole Christmas," "Miracle On 34th Street," and "Love Actually." The first one is obvious, the other two I called out.


	20. December 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is Christmas, and Christmas is sometimes busy and stressful, even when you're happy and in love.
> 
> Side note, I think this chapter puts me at about 50k words on this work. I'm super pumped about that!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr for @notfunnydean's SPN Advent Calendar Challenge 2018. Today’s prompt was "Trying to wrap some presents." 
> 
> This is my first long fic, and I'm really new to sharing my writing. If you find any errors, or just have feedback, please let me know. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Unfortunately, I don't own the characters or the bunker, but I can dream.

**** Cas did not want to get out of bed. Dean was currently wrapped around his body, snoring softly into his chest. It was warm and cuddly.

It was also after 9, and he’d heard Sam moving around, and he knew that Dean had made a point of them sharing breakfast as a family this month. He sighed loudly and pressed a kiss to the top of Dean’s head.

Dean’s response was to press his face more firmly into Cas’ chest.

“Sam’s up.” He could tell his hunter was waking. Dean grunted.

“I’ve forgotten the correct combination of grunts for ‘It’s after 9’.”

Dean peered up at him, obviously confused, then shook his head and bit down on Cas’ pec muscle, slightly above his nipple. Cas might have grunted. He could feel Dean’s smile against the recently bitten spot. He kissed Dean’s soft hair again, then rolled them over, so he was effectively pinning Dean to the bed. He gave Dean a lingering kiss before crawling over him to get out of bed.

“Hey!”

Cas turned back to find his hunter sprawled on his back with his hands behind his head. He raised a single eyebrow at him.

“That was just gettin' good!”

Cas laughed. “Dean, I would happily spend all day in bed with you. Your stomach, however, would resent us for that. So, let’s go have breakfast with your brother.”

Dean crawled out of bed, feigning extreme reluctance, and followed Cas to the kitchen. Sam was standing at the counter, staring at the coffee pot. 

“You waitin' for it to do a trick Sammy?”

Sam’s entire body jerked. “Jesus Dean, I didn’t even hear you guys come in.”   
“How long you been staring at the full coffee pot?”

“No idea. Was thinking about what I need to get done today.”

“Oh, big day planned?”

“Nah, just have to wrap presents. Cas, I might need your help with something later.”

“You need Cas to help you wrap presents?” Cas’ face reflected the disbelief in Dean’s tone.

“No, just... Anyway. What are you guys doing today?”

“Actually, I was hoping to do some Christmas shopping.” Cas replied. “If there are no other plans. Though I can be available to help you with...whatever you need later.”

Dean face flashed a brief look of relief before settling into a smile. “Actually, I’ve got a few last minute errands to run myself. Sounds like it’s every man,” he bumped shoulders with Cas “and angel, for himself today. Well, after breakfast. Cereal okay?” Sam nodded and Cas pointed at the coffee pot.

Breakfast was quick and quiet. Once the bowls were in the sink, and coffee cups had been refilled, Dean gathered their daily gifts.

“I’m actually a little excited about this one.” He said, setting a large package before each of them.

Cas and Sam shared a look before tearing into the paper to reveal. Cas was a bit confused. It was another duffel bag. He looked over at Dean who was smiling widely, then at Sam who look as confused as he felt.

“Okay, so, it looks like another duffel bag, right? But watch.” He pulled Cas’ duffel in front of himself and started to unzip it. He removed two dress shirts. At first, this was not an impressive thing, but then he unzipped a second and then third zipper, and the case was laying flat on the table. “See, it’s actually a garment bag.” He unzipped an interior zipper to reveal a blue suit coat, a  _ new _ blue suit coat, sharing a hanger with  _ new _ blue suit pants. “It’s got room for a full suit,” he opened another interior zipper along the top and removed two new ties, one blue and grey and one blue and green, “a special pocket for ties, a pocket for a belt,” he pulled out a new brown belt, “and on the bottom, there’s a separate pocket for your dress shoes.” He pulled out a new pair of brown leather loafers. He looked up at them and grinned before he started tucking everything back into the bag. Within a minute, it was back to being an unassuming duffel bag.

“Dean, that is so  _ cool!  _ Cas, have you ever tried to pack a full suit and not have it look like shit? Never mind, you just wear yours. Let me tell you, you can’t do it without a garment bag, and those don’t travel well in the trunk. This is perfect!” He’d started to flatten his as well, to look at the pockets. When he opened the suit section to reveal a new black suit, he stopped. “Wait, you got us new  _ suits _ too?” Dean just nodded while Sam continued to unpack. “You’re the best brother ever. If you didn’t get yourself one, we’ll order it today, I don’t have time to do it before Christmas. Maybe Cas can take you shopping for a suit after Christmas or something. We’re going to be the best dressed feds those local cops have ever seen!” He was petting his new silver tie. 

Dean laughed. “Glad you like it.”

“I have never had the pleasure of wearing a new suit Dean.” He leaned over and kissed Dean’s cheek. His hunter blushed.

“I know it’s just fine, but I figured you might like a suit that was yours and not Jimmy’s maybe. I don’t think it’s actually the right size for you.”

“Based on the other clothes you have given me, I believe that you are correct. I’ll try it on for you later.”

“Ewww. That was a mental image I didn’t need.” Sam covered his eyes theatrically. Cas just cocked his head. He wasn’t sure what Sam could find offensive about him fully dressed in what could be considered his standard gear.

_ I’m just guessing here Angel, but he probably figures I’ll really enjoy watching you get undressed to get into that suit and helping you get back out of it just as much. I know that’s what I was thinking. _

Dean’s prayer, and the  _ look _ he was giving Cas had Cas’ cheeks pinkening right along with Dean’s.

~~~~~

Dean left the bunker a eleven. He drove straight to the post office. He waited in line for twenty minutes behind all the people frantically mailing off last minute gifts. When he finally got to the counter, he grinned at Barb.

“I was wonderin’ if you’d make it in today hon. Been holding that package in the back.” She walked away from the counter and dug through a stack of packages, finally finding the small box bearing Dean’s name (his  _ real _ name). He signed for it, then held it in his hands gently for a moment before tucking it into his large coat pocket. He kept a hand in there with it, just in case.

“Gotta tell ya sweetheart, that pecan pie of yours was about the best I’ve ever had, and I have eaten a  _ lot _ of pie.”

Barb, who was likely old enough to be his mother, blushed. “Thank you very much. Did that young man of yours keep the card? Did you want me to whip up another one for Christmas?”

It was Dean’s turn to blush at the mention of his ‘young man.’ “I’m not sure about Christmas just yet ma’am.” His nervousness had somehow cranked up his politeness. “Would it be okay if I had Cas call you about it later? We haven’t actually finalized our plans yet.”

Barb reached out and patted Dean’s cheek. “You do that honey. I doesn’t take any time at all, and I’ll be making a few for our own table anyway. You boys just let me know what you need. I can do just about any desert you might be needing.”

“Thank you ma’am. I’ll be sure to have him call you when we know what our plans are.”

Barb smiled and waved at him as he backed out of the post office.

_ One Christmas in the Village and we’re the new town favorites. _

~~~~~

Sam had claimed the war room as a gift wrapping station. He’d warned both his brother and Cas that they had to stay out until further notice.

He’d set up the table as his work space, carefully laying out the various boxes on the far side of the table, four different wrapping papers and multicolored tissue paper to his left, and tape, scissors, gift tags and pen to his right. 

He boxed each item that wasn’t already in a box carefully before wrapping it. Some needed boxing to make wrapping easier, others to protect the contents. 

He took his time with each package, making perfect corners and ensuring that the tape blended into the paper. He wrote on each label neatly. Dean had already demonstrated his wrapping skills, and he was not going to let this be yet another area where his brother outshone him.

When he was finished, his packages sat prettily in a pile. He loaded them back into the storage tote he been saving them in and brought them to the rec room to organize under the tree. Once he’d arranged them to his liking, he stood back to admire his work proudly.

“Hey Cas, you got a minute?” Cas appeared beside him.

“Hello Sam, I see that you have finished your wrapping. How may I assist you?”

“I’ve got a plan, but I need some help.”

~~~~~

Once Sam had explained his plan, Cas agreed without hesitation. It really was an excellent idea, and a perfect gift for Dean.

It left a pit in his stomach, a feeling he would gladly have never discovered. He’d found a few gifts for Sam with little trouble, but he still hadn’t settled on what to give Dean.

He’d considered giving Dean several vintage concert t-shirts, acquired directly from the original venues, but had discarded the idea. Despite Dean’s assurance that he would cherish anything he received, he couldn’t help but linger on Sam’s words about gift giving: “It really isn’t about giving a  _ thing _ so much as showing someone how you feel.”

How he felt about Dean wasn’t in question. Dean was his everything. That was the problem. How could he choose a physical thing to adequately express  _ that _ ?

"Gabriel, I require assistance please."

Hopefully his brother had some ideas.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love gift giving, and I'm so excited for you guys to see what everyone gets for Christmas, but you'll just have to wait 'til Christmas like the boys!


	21. December 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel ups his winter sports game, and Dean acts all secretive and mysterious and it's stressing out Cas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr for @notfunnydean's SPN Advent Calendar Challenge 2018. Today’s prompt was "Ice skating Olympics." While I'd love to believe that Dean and Sam took a fucking minute at some point to actually be kids and learn to ice skate, I find it highly improbable that it would have happened. So, have some fluffy learning to skate fun.
> 
> This is my first long fic, and I'm really new to sharing my writing. If you find any errors, or just have feedback, please let me know. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Unfortunately, I don't own the characters or the bunker, but I can dream.

**** He’d made the decision to get up early to bake something special for breakfast. His internal debate had been hard fought. He could stay in bed, cuddled up to his sleeping angel. He’d considered that thought peacefully for a full seven seconds before he was tormenting himself with the reasons he should get up. 

He needed to bribe Gabe, first of all. He needed help and despite the archangel’s recent kind-heartedness, he didn’t trust that he would offer a favor. 

Second, they’d had cereal yesterday. He and Sam had had cereal and Cas had been stuck with coffee. Not even good coffee, just their normal morning sludge. That might be fine on a normal morning, but he wanted this month to be  _ special _ . For their little family to sit down to a good breakfast and  _ enjoy _ their time together. 

Third, he was driving himself crazy with doubt about his final Christmas gift for Cas. He’d literally been agonizing about this for three weeks since he placed the order, and having it in his possession had just about tripled his anxiety. He was about thirty seconds from curling into a ball in one of the bunker’s unused storage rooms until the holiday was over.  

So, he  _ needed _ to bake. Needed the spell to take some of the burden off of him. Needed the comfort that came from measuring and mixing and cutting and stirring. Needed to see the pleasure he could give by sharing his work.

Dean laid out his tools and ingredients on the counter carefully. He took several extra ‘cleansing breaths’ before he recited the spell over them.  He read through the recipe again. This was new for him, supposedly simple compared to baking bread, which he was pleased to admit he did quite well. Still, there were methods here that he hadn’t used before. He’d chosen it specifically because it would require extra concentration. He set the oven to preheat.

He set a pot of water to boil. He rinsed the peaches,  _ where did Cas even find fresh ripe peaches this time of year? _ , and scored the bottoms. He prepared a large ice bath. Just as the water was beginning to boil, he sorted his ingredients into categories, filling on the left, topping on the right.

He gently lowered the first four peaches into the water and started the stopwatch on his phone. He watched the required minute tick by in tenths of a second, then removed them to the icy water. He dunked them carefully for a second, ensuring that the water was back to a rolling boil before lowering in the second half of the peaches and resetting his timer. He worked to remove the skin form the peaches while the second batch boiled. He got half of one done before the new peaches were joining the first in the ice bath and turning off the burner under the water.

Peeling peaches was kind of a gross task. It was slimy and sometimes little pieces of the skin would get stuck so he would have to nip them with his knife. By the time he’d finished peeled all eight pieces, he had drying peach goo somehow slicked halfway to his elbows, and it was getting really freaking sticky. His arm hair was stuck to his arms.  _ Yup, i’m good on never peeling peaches again. _ He rinsed his hands carefully before diving back into the peaches to slice them, once again getting covered in sticky orange colored yuck. He thoroughly scrubbed his arms this time before moving back to his work.

The rest of the filling was as simple as it had looked. He drizzled in honey and vanilla first. Then, he grabbed his microplane (secretly, his favorite kitchen tool because it was just cool) and grated in some nutmeg and the zest of a lemon. He gave the peach mixture a stir to ensure all of the wet ingredients were mixed in well, and then sprinkled the flour over the top and stirring again. Already, it was looking good enough to eat, though he knew the raw flour would not taste as appealing as it looked.

He set the filling aside and turned back to the stove to work on the filling. He stirred the butter and oil together until the butter was melted before he measured in the sugar oats and cinnamon. When he’d mixed that to his satisfaction, he added the oats and mixed again. Finally, he removed the pan from the heat and added in the required flour. 

Assembly was the best part, and the easiest. He dumped the bowl of peaches into the bottom of his pretty casserole dish and scraped the bowl to make sure he got all of the juicy goodness into the pan, then spooned the crumbly topping over them. He evened out the few clumps with his fingers and voila, oven ready. He tucked the dish into the preheated oven and set his timer.

Dean found that cleaning up his mess could be nearly as therapeutic as the prep work was. Each ingredient had a home in the kitchen or pantry to which it was returned. Each tool, pan, and bowl was washed carefully and set in the rack to dry. The counters and stove were scrubbed down ( _ mental note, peach juice is sticky everywhere, but worst after it’s baked onto the stove _ ) and shiny. When his timer beeped, he slid the oven rack out a bit and loosely covered it with foil before resetting his timer. The ten minutes he had left should be just enough time to retrieve his brother and his angel. He grabbed a cup of coffee for Cas and headed down the hallway. 

~~~~~

Cas woke up to an empty bed. A  _ cold _ empty bed. He’d gone to sleep with Dean and woken up alone, and he felt... _ whatever this feeling is, I do not like it. _

He enjoyed cuddling with Dean. He liked falling asleep snuggled up with his hunter. He loved all of the various waking activities they shared in this bed. But most of all, he adored seeing Dean pillow creased with wild hair and sleepy eyes looking across him in bed in the morning. Those moments, where they could be quiet and happy and together, made spending the entire night in bed worthwhile, even when he knew he could be more useful if he got up and worked on a translation or dug through old Men of Letters research.

He huffed into his pillow. Logically, he knew that Dean was likely making breakfast. Dean had probably thought that letting him stay in their warm bed was a considerate move. Still, it irked him that he hadn’t even been consulted, no 'good mornin’ sunshine', no kiss, and no 'I’m gonna go make breakfast, wanna come keep me company?'

He sighed.  _ He probably just needed some space _ . They’d spent far more time together this month, really  _ together _ , than they ever had. Dean, while often appearing relaxed even when the situation didn’t merit it, was a naturally high-stress person. Cas  _ knew _ him. He knew the hunter sometimes just needed space to process whatever was on his mind. 

Cas tugged the blankets up around his ears and hugged Dean’s pillow to his chest. Knowing didn’t make him feel any less empty than Dean’s side of the bed.

The door snicked open quietly, and he could hear footsteps approaching the bed cautiously. 

“Babe, I brought you coffee, breakfast is almost ready.” Cas heard the mug settle on the nightstand and felt the bed dip as Dean sat down next to him. He rolled over and looked at his hunter. 

Dean had clearly spelled breakfast this morning. His soul was far more settled and bright than it had been when they’d gone to bed last night. His hunter was smiling down at him. 

“Good mornin’ Sunshine. You ‘bout ready to get up?” He punctuated his question with a soft kiss.

“I missed you this morning. I woke up and your side of the bed was cold.”

“I figured I’d let you stay all snuggled up in here while I banged around in the kitchen.”

Cas sat up to lean into Dean’s chest, burying his face in the crook of his lover’s shoulder. He couldn’t pout properly when Dean’s soul looked so  _ content _ . Dean wrapped him in a hug and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“C’mon babe. I’ve only got a few minutes left on the timer. You wanna stay here and drink your coffee for a few or you going to come help me get breakfast on the table?”

Cas grunted into his shoulder and pulled back reluctantly. “Good morning Dean.” Dean kissed his nose before standing.

“Let’s go. I made something special with those peaches. I think you’ll like it. Thought we could see if Gabe wants to join us.” 

Cas raised an eyebrow at the suggestion but got up to trail after Dean with his coffee.

~~~~~

Dean served the peach crisp with vanilla yogurt on top. Gabriel had responded instantly to the breakfast invite (in a sweater decorated with an incredibly tacky, but two dimensional manger scene), and planted himself at the table just close enough to Sam to earn him Bitchface #14 (roughly translated, I will feed you my elbow if you get any closer). 

He watched quietly as the men enjoyed the meal. He had to admit, the effort with the peaches had been worth the final product. It was a lot like having dessert for breakfast. Sam heaped on praise for the healthy fruit, oats, and yogurt. Gabriel licked his bowl. Cas...Cas made little noises of enjoyment throughout the entire meal.  _ I swear to Chuck, someday I’ll be able to sit next to Cas at a meal without my dick doing a happy dance. _

They migrated over to the crates after they’d finished eating. Cas and Sam claimed the envelopes from their crates and opened them carefully. Unlike the other enveloped gifts he’d given them, this one was hand written.

 

_ Dinner by Dean _

_ This voucher entitles the bearer to choose a meal of their choice to be prepared as a family dinner.  _

_ I promise to do my absolute best to find a great recipe and to present the best version of your  _

_ dream meal that I am capable of creating. _

_ Dean _

 

“I’ll even do vegetarian if you want. As long as I can find the recipe and ingredients, it’s fair game.”

He snagged a third envelope from behind the crates and shuffled it back and forth in his hands.

“Gabe, I’ve got one for you too. It isn’t really a present because I actually need your help with something.”

“Well Deano, your cooking could probably bribe me into a pretty big favor. Whatcha need?”

“I can’t...It’s...I’ll tell you later.” He turned to Cas. “Is there something you could do to make sure he doesn’t trick me? And doesn’t blab? I’ve seen how he is with secrets, and it’s not that I don’t trust him, but…” he gestured at Gabriel “Trickster.”

Gabriel just shrugged. “You can bind me Cassie, Dean’s divine peach magic is worth it.”

~~~~~

As soon as he’d finished the spell, Cas watched as Dean literally dragged Gabriel out of the kitchen.  _ What could Dean possibly need from Gabriel that he couldn’t get from me?  _ He looked over at Sam and cocked his head.

Sam clapped him on the shoulder. “I wouldn’t think too hard about it Cas. He probably just needs some ideas on what to get you for Christmas.” 

“He has done very well so far.” Cas gestured at the crates. “Just including me in Christmas was more than I would have hoped for.”

“Maybe not ideas then, but I’m guessing, since he didn’t ask you, that id has  _ something _ to do with a surprise for you.”

Cas just nodded. His thoughts went to the gift that he had planned for Dean. While Gabriel hadn’t been a very good source of inspiration yesterday, his teasing had planted an idea that Cas thought was perfect. Or, he  _ had  _ thought it was perfect until Dean needed to recruit  _ an archangel _ for help with his gift.  _ It’s not a competition. It’s just a way to show love. _ Dean had said he would love it, regardless of what  _ it _ turned out to be. He’d have to believe that.

He and Sam washed the rest of the breakfast dishes and headed to the library to work on the translation Sam had been struggling with.

~~~~~

It was a full two hours later before his brother and the archangel appeared in the library. He and Cas looked up as the two men entered the room. Dean looked sheepish and Gabriel looked… gleeful. _That look on Gabriel has got to mean trouble._

“What-” Sam’s question was cut off.

“I’ve got a surprise in the backyard!” Gabriel proclaimed. It was clearly meant as a distraction, and it turned out to be a very effective one.

Gabriel had turned the back of the bunker into an ice rink. 

Sam stood stock still, arms carefully out to the sides, precariously balanced on the figure skates Gabe had tied onto his feet.

“Alright Sammy. I’m right here. I promise I won’t let you fall.” Gabe had his arms out toward him, encouraging him to try to move forward.

“Like you could stop me.”

Gabriel wagged his eyebrows. “Archangel. I could literally hold you above my head and do a triple Axel.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. It wasn’t like he  _ forgot _ the archangel part, just that when he looked down at Gabriel, offering to help him, it didn’t even factor in, the guy was just  _ little _ . “Fine, like you  _ would _ stop me.”

“I have no interest in letting you bruise your perfect butt Sam.” His sincerity was evident in his use of Sam’s  _ actual _ name. Gabriel skated closer, turning so that he stood next to him. “Why don’t we try it like our brothers are. Seems to be working for Deano.”

Sam looked across the ice to find his brother slowly skating forward. Cas had one arm wrapped around Dean’s waste. It looked like Dean was clinging to it for his life.

“I’ll crush you if we fall Gabe.” It was meant as a threat, but it came out somewhere between a whine and a plea.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Gabe leaned in closer. “It’s the wings. Cassie has never skated before, but they won’t fall because Cas’ will instinctively balance with his wings. It's a good chuck of what makes angels look so graceful when they move. We won’t fall either.”

Sam remembered the awesome sight of Gabriel’s golden wings. He’d longed to run his fingers through them, test the texture. He sighed and waved at Gabe with his closer hand.

“Come on then, let’s show them how it’s done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I need to know if I spend too much time on the baking scenes. When I'm writing it, it feels important to Dean, but when I'm rereading, it feels like it might drag a little. Feedback in either direction would be very greatly appreciated.
> 
> Also, I started this piece on November 24th, and here we are. The thing about writing through the holidays is that everything is crazy. I hope you can see that in my story, even though the boys are taking the month off. There's a certain frantic-ness that comes with wanting to make sure that everything is *right* and that everyone is happy. The thing is, sometimes, despite our best efforts, everyone is *not* happy all of the time. We are insecure, sad little creatures sometimes, and the holidays do tend to amplify that. Sometime, maybe, I'll write a little blurb about what I'm trying to escape this month by writing this like I am, but for now, just know that sharing this with you is literally the thread that's keeping my soul from aching this Christmas. Thanks for that.


	22. December 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam has a surprise for Dean that can't go under the Christmas tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally written for @notfunnydean's SPN Advent Calendar Challenge 2018 on Tumblr. I promise I'll get it posted there at some point. Today’s prompt was "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree." 
> 
> This is my first long fic, and I'm really new to sharing my writing. If you find any errors, or just have feedback, please let me know. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Unfortunately, I don't own the characters or the bunker, but I can dream.

****When he wanted to be, Dean’s angel could be quite convincing. Sometimes in the ‘you are going to do this to save the world whether you like it or not’ way, but also sometimes in the ‘I’m not letting you out of this bed until we've come at least once and then we've cuddled’ way. Dean had to admit, he much preferred the persuasion techniques involved in the latter to the former. Waking up to a warm, snuggling, _horny_ angel was something he definitely wanted to get used to.

So, they were having pancakes, because they were quick and easy. He’d dug out a new recipe he’d been saving to try for Sam. The photo on the page had made the _sugar-free, gluten-free, and dairy-free, Jesus that just seems wrong,_ banana oatmeal pancakes look pretty appetizing. Dean figured it was worth the risk to surprise his brother with a _healthy_ breakfast. Plus, the batter was done in a blender, so, it was perfect for a late morning.

They ate lazily and lingered at the table.  They’d opened their presents, a pair of seasonal ties for each man. (One was subtle, or as Sam had noted “I can actually wear this with my fed suit”, and the other was ugly sweater levels of tacky.) Cas was cuddled into his shoulder sipping his coffee, and Sam had his laptop out, playing Christmas music and presumably looking for cases.

“So, get this.” Dean tuned into his brother, but kept the side of his face pressed to the top of Cas’ head. He raised a brow for his brother to continue.

“I may have gotten you one present that can’t go under the tree.”

Dean straightened a little, his eyebrows drawing together. _Leave it to Sammy to break the rules._

Sam had pushed his laptop to the side and his hands held out in front of him, “I think you’ll like it, I mean I hope you’ll like it.”

“Sam, just spit it out.”

“I invited some people to the bunker for dinner on Christmas Eve.”

“What _people_ could you possibly ask to just stop in for dinner Sam?”

“Umm, Mom and Bobby and Donna and Jodi and Claire and Alex and Gabriel and Rowena and Crowley?”

Dean was torn between panicking and pleased. He loved the idea of having the entire family gathered around the table for Christmas dinner, but how the hell was he supposed to pull it off?

In the silence, the music seemed to blare from Sam’s laptop. _Rockin' around the Christmas tree at the Christmas party hop. Mistletoe hung where you can see, every couple tries to stop._

Christmas dinner with the family. Christmas morning with the family. He groaned internally. He’d mentally prepared to tackle the whole ‘Cas is my boyfriend now’ topic with his family, but he’d thought he’d be able to do it individually, like over time as he saw them all. _Rip that bandaid off I guess_.

Then, another thought occurred to him. His entire family was going to be there on Christmas morning. He’d gotten used to the idea that their brothers would watch him fumble through the gift exchange. There was no fucking way he could do it with his whole family watching, spelled or not.

 _Be calm, take a deep breath. We’ll figure this out._ Cas grabbed his hand. He made a quiet mental note not to think too loudly about that whole mess. Since he’d found out Cas could hear him when he got worked up sexy times had gotten a whole lot more fun, but keeping secrets had gotten a whole lot harder.

“Let’s be sure I understand this. I have a day and a half to plan and prepare to serve _Christmas Dinner_ for twelve people. And probably breakfast on Christmas morning, because it would be a hell of a drive to just show up for dinner and then head home.”

“Sort of? I mean, not the breakfast part, Cas and Gabe are going to handle the transportation, but the dinner part. I hadn’t really thought about you needing to actually _make_ everything. This might have been a bad idea...” His little brother had donned his most pathetic kicked puppy look by the time his voice trailed off. Dean tried to hide his sigh of relief, _Well, that makes Christmas morning a whole lot easier._

“And you knew about this?” He nudged Cas.

“In my defense, you’re the one who laid out the rule about Christmas surprises.” Cas’ face was set into his perfectly neutral mask, but Dean could see the mischief in his eyes.

“Jesus, okay. I gotta think about how I’m going to do this.” He pointed at Cas. “You’re calling Barb about desserts. She said she could do whatever, so maybe she can whip up a couple of pies for us.” Cas lost his innocent look,  and Sam's eyebrow shot up, but Cas just nodded. “And you,” he pointed at Sam “This is a good idea, but next time, _talk_ to me about it.”

He waited for Sam to perk up and nod at him. “I’m gonna go see if I can put together a menu. We’re going to have to go shopping tomorrow. Jesus, I hope I can get a fresh ham…”

Dean was in full planning mode by the time he stalked out of the kitchen. _Menu, bar inventory, grocery list, prep schedule, cooking order. I got this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, but Dean has too much to do to spend a day lounging around or having winter-time fun. You know he thrives on the challenge of it!
> 
> (Has nothing to do with the fact that I might have had too much to drink at our office Christmas party, passed out at a friend's house, and am just now finishing up writing today's post. Really, it doesn't...)
> 
> P.S. Try the pancakes, they're pretty ok for being sugar-free, gluten-free, and dairy-free. https://www.modernhoney.com/banana-oatmeal-pancakes


	23. December 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel makes some modifications to the bunker, some with permission, some not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally written for @notfunnydean's SPN Advent Calendar Challenge 2018 on Tumblr. I promise I'll get it posted there at some point. Today’s prompt was "By the fireplace."
> 
> This is my first long fic, and I'm really new to sharing my writing. If you find any errors, or just have feedback, please let me know. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Unfortunately, I don't own the characters or the bunker, but I can dream.

****He walked into the kitchen and stopped cold. Cas, who’d been close behind him, ended up pressed to his back, grabbing his hip to steady them before they tipped forward.

His kitchen was gone. The ancient industrial ovens and stove top and griddle that he’d spent hours cleaning and reconditioning had been replaced with brand new models. The wall of white ice boxes had been replaced with a three door side by side stainless steel set. The wire rack that stood beside it was shiny new stainless as well. Even the center island and the hanging rack above it looked brand new. All of his dangling pots and pans were shiny. The shelves below were lined with undented, perfectly organized, _new_ baking sheets, cookware, and mixing bowls. Everything was clean and new and _not his_.

“Sammy!” He hollered frantically as he took a step forward, Cas following him into the kitchen. They stopped at the counter. Seconds later, Sam ran into the room, weapon drawn. When he saw the two pajama clad men just standing there, he looked around and lowered his gun.

“Wha-”

Gabriel appeared directly in front of Sam, his hands out toward Dean defensively. “Wasn’t Sammich, Deano, this one’s all on me.”

“What did you do to my kitchen Gabriel?” Dean’s voice was low and dark, Cas had a grip on his elbow as if holding him back.

“I figured a world class chef deserved a world class kitchen?” Gabriel’s tone was hesitant if a bit snarky. “Okay, I might have felt a little bit guilty that we kept you in the dark about Christmas dinner.”

Dean’s response was to wave his arm around the kitchen, mouth opening and closing wordlessly.

“I can put it all back?”

Dean looked around the kitchen again. He loved his kitchen, but some of this stuff was really nice, and practical. “Maybe not all of it.” The anger was gone from his tone, leaving it come out predominantly in the form of a long suffering sigh. “Was a nice thought Gabe, I just...I liked _my_ kitchen. I mean, that can stay.” He motioned to the new refrigerator. “Old one needed to be replaced before we even moved in. And maybe that.” He pointed at the storage rack.

“Ummm, you might want to look at the pantry…” Gabriel had started backing away as he said it.

Dean shuffled over to the walk-in pantry. He took stock of the new canisters, neat spice rack, carefully aligned boxes of pasta and cereal. He huffed out a sigh. _Okay, so I can admit this is kinda my dream pantry._

“It can stay, but can I have the rest of the stuff back?”

Gabriel, who’d positioned himself safely behind Sam, waved his hand. With the exceptions Dean had allowed, the kitchen was returned to familiar state. Almost familiar, it looked like a cleaning crew had gotten a hold of the place for a few hours, but it was comfortably _his_ again.

“Thanks Gabe.” The archangel was still mostly hiding behind his brother. It really had been a nice thought. He couldn’t let the man suffer for the fact that he just might be a sentimental sap. “The pantry is actually pretty awesome.” He grinned at Gabriel.

“Thought you might like that. I noticed you were a little OCD about where things go.” Gabe took the out gracefully, and without even hinting at Dean’s sentimentality. “Did leave you one more surprise in the fridge though, from both Sam and me. I _know_ you’ll appreciate this one.”

Dean walked over to the new fridge. The first door he opened, closest to the wall, was actually the freezer. A quick glance at the contents showed that they hadn’t changed with the change of units. He opened the second and third doors simultaneously. Clearly, Gabriel had done some grocery ‘shopping.’

He let his eyes wander, taking mental inventory of the shelves of the fresh produce, cheeses, meats, and various other newly acquired supplies. “What, did you sneak into our room and steal my grocery list?”

“You left your notebook on the coffee table.” Sam shuffled his feet. “Your prep schedule had you shopping all day and getting up at four Dean. I thought if we got the grocery shopping taken care of, then maybe we could help with some of the prep today, and still have some time to relax.”

Dean thought about that for a second. He didn’t know about Gabriel, but despite the fact that they couldn't cook, Cas and Sam had pretty wicked knife skills. This could work. “I’ve gotta rewrite my schedule.” It was muttered to himself. Gabriel 'appeared' his notebook and handed it over. He wandered over to the recently replaced, still battered kitchen table and sat down. A couple minutes later, Cas joined him, placing a plate and a cup of coffee at his elbow.

Dean rewrote his prep schedule quickly. If they got all of the veg cut today, and maybe washed and greased and foiled the potatoes, he could still get the dinner rolls baked. Tomorrow would mostly be shuffling things into the ovens at the right time and arranging the appetizers for display. Huh. _We can probably even take time for..._ He cut himself off, that was a surprise for after breakfast.

He looked up to find three sets of eyes trained on him. “We can do this.” He looked down, noticing the plate at his elbow containing several pieces of cinnamon raisin toast.

“Gabe made breakfast.” Cas whisper-shouted at him.

“You mean he can operate a kitchen appliance without setting off the smoke detectors?” Dean grinned.

Gabe laughed. “I’m guessing there’s a story there, but yes. I’m actually quite handy in the kitchen when I want to be. Unlike Cassie, I’ve gone native for a few of my years on Earth. Helps with the whole staying hidden thing.”

“Jesus, Gabriel’s a better cook than me. This is my life now.” Sam was shaking his head.

Cas smiled and leaned into Dean. “This is probably not the best time for a cooking lesson, but I will be of help if I can.”

“Oh, I’ve got a few jobs even you and Sam can’t screw up.” He pecked a light kiss on his angel’s nose. Cas looked pleased.

Dean ate his toast quickly. “ ‘S really good bread.” He mumbled, ignoring the flying toast crumbs.

“Yeah, there’s this little bakery in Upper Michigan that makes it. Almost as good as yours Deano.” Gabriel was clearly still trying to make up for his kitchen makeover.

Dean nodded, slurped down the rest of his coffee and stood. He clapped his hands together. “Okay, we’ve got work to do people, let’s get started.” Thus began the reign of General Dean over the bunker kitchen.

Dean chased them out of the kitchen several hours later. They’d finished the prep work he’d designated for today, now he just had to set himself up for tomorrow. Now that he had a little extra time in the morning, even with his revised eight o’clock alarm, he wanted to start the morning with muffins. He’d been eyeing the blood oranges that had appeared on the counter, and had found the perfect recipe. Plus, they’d have something to snack on while dinner was being prepared.

He organized his tools and some of his ingredients for the following morning into groups on the counter top, muffins on the far right, ham in the center, and sides on the far right. He examined his work and nodded to himself. He’d done everything he could to set himself up for the next day.

Everyone was banned from the kitchen for the rest of the day. He grabbed the gifts, forgotten in the rush of morning, and went to seek out his little family.

~~~~~

The rec room had firmly become his second favorite place in the bunker (after the kitchen of course). He paused for a moment, enjoying the scene. Their tree stood beautifully in the corner, now with gifts heaped under it as all of them had added to the pile for Christmas morning and several gifts that Dean had intended to mail for their extended family had been added to mix to be given tomorrow instead. The lights glowed against the wrapping paper. Gabriel and Sam were sprawled out on opposite ends of the couch, feet up on the coffee table, and Cas had his legs thrown over the arm of the chair beside them. It looked like they were watching _Frozen_.

He walked into the room and set the gifts on the table before looking around again. How were they going to fit a dozen people in here after dinner? He really couldn’t imagine his mom or Bobby or Rowena or Crowley on the floor. Which left everyone _else_ on the cold concrete floor.

“Hey Mr. HGTV. Wanna try your hand at redecorating, maybe with permission this time?” He gestured Gabriel over to him. Sam reached out and paused the movie before he and Cas followed Gabe over.

“So, I’m thinking, we’re gonna want to hang out for a while after dinner, exchange the gifts we have with the people who’re going back home and stuff. But there’s definitely not enough comfortable places to sit in here. Think we can do something about that?”

Gabriel nodded his head, looking deep in thought and deeply serious. His eyebrows squished together as he slowly circled the room. “Hmmm. Okay, I’m gonna try some things, and we can change them if you don’t like it.”

Dean nodded. He, Cas, and Sam moved closer to the door.

Gabriel waved a hand casually and everything was gone from the room. Dean’s eyebrow shot up. Gabe held up a single finger, the universal wait a minute gesture, and started to walk around the room. He pointed at the floor, and the concrete was suddenly dark hardwood under their feet. He continued on this way.

Walk, point. The plain white walls were replaced with light grey blue paint and wide cream colored trim.

Walk, point. A plush area rug in shades of grey covered most of the hardwood.

Walk, point. An enormous sectional sofa in light grey microfiber appeared where the couch and chair had been previously.

Walk, point, point. Two wide arm chairs to match the sofa appeared on the opposite wall.

Still positioned by the chairs, point. A fireplace, a fucking fireplace, appeared between them, a small patch of tile in front, a tool caddy and large tote of wood beside it.

Head tilt, point. Their widescreen TV was mounted above it, movie still paused. Gabe reached out and re-angled it for better viewing from both sides of the sofa.

Walk, point. Their Christmas tree, complete with presents appeared in the corner, a new and slightly familiar angel having been placed as a topper.

A few steps toward the door, point. A dark waist high cabinet filled the wall by the door. Gabriel walked over to it and opened one of the doors, revealing a small refrigerator, and pulled out a bottle. Correction, upon further inspection, they now had a fully equipped bar in the living room, complete with glass wear, Gabe handed Dean the bottle, and _beer._

Gabe, now grinning at having struck Dean speechless, sauntered over to the couch and flopped down on the corner, a pretty close approximation to his previous position on the old couch. He glanced around the room and waved his hand. A giant leather ottoman appeared in front of the sofa, and two in front of the chairs. Pendant lights hung over the chairs by the fireplace. Blankets in blue and black were artfully draped over the backs of the chairs. Three empty stockings hung from the fireplace mantle, their names embroidered along the length. A softly glowing wall lamp was positioned over the bar. Throw pillows and blankets adorned the couch. Dean’s gifts sat on the ottoman.

Nobody moved for a minute.

Gabriel turned around to kneel on the couch facing the three men by the door. “Well, what do you think?” He looked almost hesitant.

Dean walked over and ran his hand along the soft fabric of the back of the couch then roughly pulled Gabriel into a hug. Gabriel, having never been on the receiving end of a Dean Winchester hug, flapped his arms for a second before reaching up to pat his back tentatively. Dean pulled away and punched the archangel in the shoulder. “You done good Gabe. This is perfect.”

Gabriel’s face lit up before it was schooled into a casual mask. “Should be, can’t count the number of home decorating magazines I’ve read. Anyway. Can we finish this movie? I think we only have a few minutes left.”

Dean sank into the opposite corner of the couch and threw his legs up on the ottoman. He patted the seat next to him and Cas walked over to snuggle into his side. _Never knew you were such a cuddler_. The prayer earned him a grin as Cas’ legs joined Dean’s. When Sam finally sat down, remote still in hand. Dean looked around again. It really was a perfect family room.

“Jesus Gabe, maybe you can tackle my room next.” Sam said, almost reverently.

Gabe just laughed. “Maybe later Sammich, start the movie. I haven’t seen this one yet and I'm dying to see how it ends.”

When the credits were rolling fifteen minutes later, Dean gestured to the gifts. He was kind of glad they hadn’t gotten to them this morning. This was the perfect place for them to be opened.

Sam leaned over and grabbed them, passing the blue wrapped one to Cas. Evidently, his color coded wrapping system had been well established at this point. Red for Sam, blue or silver for Cas.

When the packages had been unwrapped, revealing Cards Against Humanity for Sam and Trivial Pursuit for Cas, Gabe clapped his hands, looking gleeful.

He stood up, brushed the wrapping paper off the ottoman and cleared his throat. Then, he dramatically pulled the top off the huge square to reveal a flat table. He gave the perfect impression of a late night TV advertiser. “It’s a comfortable ottoman, it’s a game table, but wait, there’s more.” He stuck his fingers into the oval opening in the center an lifted one half of the table to rest on locking hinges. “It’s also a storage space for your card and board games and various miscellany.” He theatrically opened and closed the sides of the table a few more times before putting on his most serious face. “Warning: Do not cover this ottoman with a person inside. Suffocation may occur.” He propped the top behind the couch and assumed a relaxed lotus position next to the ottoman. He wiggled around for a bit, then waved his hand. A  dark blue floor cushion appeared under him, and three more around the low table. He looked up with a grin. “What are we gonna play first?”

Dean laughed. The archangel could be a pain in the ass, but he certainly had his moments. “I’m gonna go with Cards Against Humanity. Can’t imagine Sam and I stand a chance against two millennia old beings in a game of Trivial Pursuit.”

_I could get used to this too. Fire in the fireplace, beer close at hand, and game night in the family room._  He sighed a contented little sigh and slid down to a cushion to join Gabe on the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love the idea that Dean is attached to his kitchen, and has spent time working to repair old appliances and get everything where he wants it. He's exactly the type to want to keep his ancient and familiar stove rather than to replace it with a shiny new one, don't you think?


	24. December 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas Eve brings the first ever family Christmas dinner to the bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally written for @notfunnydean's SPN Advent Calendar Challenge 2018 on Tumblr. I promise I'll get it posted there at some point. Today’s prompt was "Singing Christmas Songs Loudly."
> 
> This is my first long fic, and I'm really new to sharing my writing. If you find any errors, or just have feedback, please let me know. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Unfortunately, I don't own the characters or the bunker, but I can dream.

Dean was awake hours before his alarm clock. By Cas’ judgement, it couldn’t have been much past six. He sighed and snuggled further into his hunter's chest. “Dean, we’ve got two more hours, go back to sleep.”

Dean wrapped his arm tighter around his shoulders and nuzzled his face into his hair. “Can’t. ‘M awake now.” He could hear the rumble of Dean’s voice under his ear and feel the breath in his hair. It didn’t make a good argument for getting out of bed.

Dean rolled away from him and flipped on the bedside lamp. Cas sighed and sat up against the headboard. “Let me see your list.” He knew Dean had set his notebook on the nightstand before bed the previous evening. Dean handed it over without comment.

 

 _8:00_ _muffins & presents_

 _9:00_ _clean war room_

 _10:00_ _double check bar_

 _11:00_ _pick up pies_

 _Noon_ _lunch_

 _1:00_ _clean & mop, gen., dbl check bathroom_

 _2:45_ _prep ham_

 _3:00_ _ham in oven_

 _3:15_ _fruit & nut tray, crudites, meat & cheese tray_

 _3:30_ _change clothes_

 _3:45_ _apps to FR, greet guests_

 _5:00_ _potatoes in oven_

 _5:15_ _brussel sprouts in oven_

 _5:30_ _boil carrots, make ham glaze_

 _@137_ _glaze ham_

 _5:35_ _make raisin sauce_

 _5:40_ _prep salad_

 _5:45_ _plate sides_

 _6:00_ _everything to dining room_

 

He read through the list and shook his head before handing the notebook back. “You have a pen?” Dean pulled it out of the spiral binding. “Okay. The bunker is clean.” When it looked like Dean might interrupt, he held up is hand. “Very clean. I provided a little angel cleaning service last night. Every surface is literally sparkling. Probably even in rooms we don’t use, I didn’t really contain myself.” Dean scratched the line off his schedule.

“What else? Oh, Gabe said he was gonna fix up the war room. Sam said you were planning to serve dinner there. We can check that out after breakfast, but I’m sure I’m capable of whatever adjustments might need to be made.”

Dean scratched off another line.

“The new bar in the family room has about as much booze as any actual bar we’ve been in. I’m pretty sure we’re fine there.”

Another line was crossed out. Cas pressed a kiss to Dean’s shoulder as he leaned over to look at the revised list. “So, the only things we have left to do between now and 2:45 are eat breakfast, pick up the pies, and eat lunch. Are you sure you don’t want to stay in bed?” He wrapped his arms around his hunter’s chest, pressing himself to Dean’s back.

Dean heaved a sigh and turned his face into Cas’ shoulder. “It’s just, I trust you, and I’m sure everything’s fine, but…”

“But you just need to be sure.” He understood, he really did. This was their first Christmas dinner as a family, he could only imagine the disaster scenarios Dean’s brain was working up.

“Okay, how about this. We’ll get up, put on some coffee and take a tour of the bunker. If everything’s up to snuff, we can make the muffins and head back to bed. We’ll even leave Sam a note not to touch anything if you want.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” It was mumbled into his shoulder where Dean’s face was still pressed, and punctuated with a kiss.

They walked to the kitchen, hands linked, and started the coffee pot. He pulled Dean into his arms to wait for the brew to finish. He enjoyed these little moments of quiet peacefulness with his boyfriend. He grimaced into Dean’s hair at the thought.

He must have also tensed up. “What’s up babe?” Dean pulled back to look at him.

“I hadn’t thought about the fact that your family doesn’t know we are…” He trailed off but gestured between them. “I should practice keeping my hands to myself.”

Dean grinned. “Not like I never brought you home to meet the family. Just guessing, but based on Sam’s reaction, I don’t think there’s gonna be a whole lot of surprise if people notice us standing a little closer. Actually, come to think of it, you’d practically have to be in my lap for us to be closer than we usually are. We’ve never been all that great at personal space.” Cas smiled and leaned back into Dean.

When the coffee was done, they started their bunker tour. Cas pointed out how clean the halls were, and Dean just nodded absentmindedly. When they reached the war room, they stopped at the door for a moment.

The table, while maintaining its shape, had stretched and was covered with a pristine white tablecloth. There were little cedar candle holders down the center on a dark green runner with a delicate holly border. The chrome and black rolling chairs had been replaced with comfortable looking slipper chairs in a matching green. The table was set, each place with a gold-trimmed white plate, gleaming silver flatware,  a stemless wine tumbler and a name card. 

The banks of computer equipment had been replaced with long buffets, with the same white and green cloths, and silver serving utensils. Eight bottles in silver insulating buckets graced the end of the far buffet. Dean trailed his hand over the back of a chair on the way to examine the bottles. He picked up several bottles, and Cas noted an Italian Lambrusco, and a Riesling along with at least one bottle of sparkling grape juice.

“He did a good job. Way better than I could have done.”

“You don’t have angelic grace on your side my love. Is there anything you’d like me to change?”

Dean just shook his head before wandering back to join Cas at the door. “Next stop family room?”

The family room was pristine, the floor cushions having been tucked away. A small assortment of liquor bottles had been placed on a silver tray on top of the bar, and a variety of tumblers were upended next to it.

“Need to get ice.”

“We’ll ask Sam about it first, I think he mentioned it last night.”

They wandered around the bunker until their coffee ran out, peeking into any room they thought a guest might wander into. Dean checked the laundry room twice, not wanting anyone to come across a pile of dirty boxers. Cas trailed behind him, watching his hunter take stock of their newly cleaned quarters.

Finally, they made their way back to the kitchen. Dean pulled him closer for a kiss. “Need to hire that angel maid service more often.” 

“Any time my love. It requires very little effort. I especially hope you’ll let me clean up after dinner. I’d far rather you get to relax with your family instead of spending hours washing dishes.”

“Don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“Dean, I am offering to do it because I want to.” Dean just nodded and refilled their mugs.

“Want to help me make these muffins then?”

They worked in companionable silence, interrupted only by Dean’s occasional instruction or tip. While the muffins baked, Dean reviewed the contents of the fridge again and wandered the kitchen. Cas could practically hear him running through his game plan internally. 

When the timer dinged, Dean checked the muffins and removed them to a cooling rack. He scrawled a note for Sam and left it by the Advent crates, notably bare of gifts this morning, and turned to Cas.  His grin was a little wicked, and his prayer a moment later was downright dirty.  _ Wanna take a shower with me Angel? _

~~~~~

Dean’s mind was running a mile a minute. He couldn’t believe what had already been accomplished. It was barely after seven, and all they really had to do this morning was run into town to meet Barb for the pie exchange. He was incredibly grateful for the angel in his life, well, both of them, but he intended to show  _ his _ angel a very enjoyable method of saying thank you.

He led Cas to the shower room and tugged him inside before locking the door. He wasn’t really worried about Sam getting up this early, especially given their late game night, but he really didn’t want to be interrupted.

He released his hold on his angel and leaned into the farthest shower stall to turn the water on. The bunker had great water pressure, and a seemingly endless supply of hot water, but sometimes it took a minute to warm up. 

He went back to where Cas was waiting by the row of sinks. He drew him close and ran his hands under the back of his t-shirt to press between his shoulder blades where he could still imagine the base of Cas’ gorgeous wings. He fitted their bodies together from chest to hip and bracketed his lovers legs with his own before lowering his head to join their mouths in lingering kiss and running his hands back down to the hem of Cas’ shirt.

He undressed his lover slowly, pausing between articles of clothing to press kisses on newly exposed skin. Cas clung to him, keeping a grip on his neck or shoulders, little sighs of pleasure escaping occasionally, barely audible over the running water. A kiss to his bare hip bone as Dean knelt to remove his socks, earned him a tiny gasp and a hand in his hair. He smiled into the sensitive skin.

When Cas was naked before him, he stood back, just out of reach, to admire his angel. He loved the golden tone of his skin, the long lean muscles of his legs, the strength evident in his arms and chest. 

Cas let him look for a minute before moving closer to work on Dean's clothing. He wasn’t nearly as patient about it, stripping him quickly of his clothes before returning the admiring inspection. Dean turned away to test the water temperature before stepping into the shower, pulling his angel into the shower and directly into a tight embrace. They stood like that, locked together under the hot run of the shower for a moment, until the slick rub of skin on skin as they breathed had him shifting restlessly.

He grabbed their body wash and poured some into his hand. He rubbed them together, and moved to stand behind Cas. He touched each inch of skin, making sure to pay teasingly close attention to his ass, before pouring out more soap and moving to the front of his angel again. He took his time, spreading the lather across broad pectorals, flicking lightly at budded brown nipples, dragging his hands down muscled arms, dipping his fingertips between each rib and groove of abdominal muscles, tracing the deep v of obliques, skipping over Cas’ bobbing erection to run his palms down the muscles of his legs, kneeling to lift his feet one at a time and running his fingers between squirming toes. He stood and moved to reach for Cas’ groin but was stopped by a hand to his chest. He looked up to catch his angel’s eyes and the look of lust there had him leaning against the firm hand.

“My turn.”

Cas was equally thorough in his cleansing exploration of Dean’s body. It felt like his skin was catching fire with each touch. By the time his angel was once again standing before him, his cock was throbbing in time with his pulse, and his entire body was burning for real contact. Cas followed the same trail down as Dean had, and when he skipped over his needy dick, he groaned. The sound echoed off of the tile, and Cas laughed deep and wicked. When every last toe had been washed, Cas, still kneeling, grabbed him by the hips and pressed his back to the cool shower wall. Before he could form words, the angel had his lips wrapped around the head of his cock. He shouted at the unexpected sensation and reached down to card his fingers into wet hair. Cas, it seemed, had done research on the topic of blowjobs. Dean’s upstairs brain stopped working.

“Cas, yes” the words were dragged from his gut as the angel sucked him in deeper, his tongue constantly moving, never releasing the gentle suction of his lips. Dean’s head fell to the wall behind him.

_ Please, yes, love your hot fucking mouth.  _ His prayer was met with a muffled moan around his dick, sending sparks of pleasure up his spine. His hands clamped tighter in Cas’ hair. 

“So fucking good baby”  _ so good. Perfect. My perfect angel. _ Cas picked up the pace, little whines of pleasure escaping now. Dean forced his head forward to watch. Cas released his grip on one hip to wrap his hand around himself. The sight of his angel on his knees, water running down his skin glistening under the fluorescent lights, fisting his cock to match the rhythm of his mouth...it was too much.

“Close”  _ gonna come angel, so perfect for me.  _

Cas lunged forward, sucking down to the base of his dick and swallowed. Dean’s head flew back with another shout “Cas!” His angel pulled back slightly as he came and groaned around his pulsing cock before swallowing rapidly, the sound of his hand still moving jerkily bouncing off the tiles to surround him. Finally, when he was just on the good side of over sensitive, Cas pulled back enough pressed his forehead into Dean’s thigh.

Dean willed his muscles to stop trembling, begged his legs to continue supporting him, and smoothed his fingers across Cas’ abused scalp.  _ What did I ever do to deserve you?  _ It wasn’t a throwaway thought. It had been eating at his mind since Cas had first uttered words of love at the pond.

His angel was standing before him, gripping his chin the second the prayer was out. They locked eyes for a long moment before Cas started to speak, his voice pitched deep and full of gravel.

“So long ago, almost from the moment we met, I understood that you felt like you didn’t deserve to be saved. I've watched you work so hard to earn your trip out of Hell. But for all the times you’ve saved someone, sometimes the whole of humanity, you’ve balanced it with someone you’ve lost. You never let yourself win, never accept that you are worthy just because you are you. Dean, you truly are righteous.”

“The Righteous Man, I know.” He closed his eyes, no longer able to withstand the soul-baring gaze of his lover.

Cas pressed their foreheads together. “No Dean, not because someone once called you the Righteous Man. You, in your heart, in your  _ soul _ , you’re good. You care and you love and you just want people to be happy. Even me, even when I betrayed you, when I made stupid decisions...you were always there. How could I  _ not _ fall in love with you?”

Dean sighed heavily. “I’ll ruin this. I will. I wreck everything I touch.” His voice was soft and broken.

“Dean, my Dean.” Cas shook his head, the skin rubbing where they rested together. “You’ve stabbed me, trapped me in Holy fire, lied to me...Dean, you were a fucking demon. If that didn’t stop me from loving you, I’m reasonably positive that nothing can. I  _ know _ you Dean. We’ve stuck together this long. What makes you think that actually being honest with each other is going to be the thing that breaks us when nothing else has?”

Dean was quiet. He didn’t have a ready argument to dispute Cas’ facts. Cas had literally found him torturing souls in the pit. Had held him back when his demon had taken over. Had stuck by his side through purgatory, and was always,  _ always  _ there when Dean really needed him. Despite years and years of trials, despite everything they’d fought and lost, here they stood.  _ I love you _ . It was the best answer he could give.

“Yes. And that’s exactly what you did to deserve me. You loved me.” The words were whispered against his lips. 

Cas’ words echoed in his mind, blocking out all of the things that could go wrong.  _ That’s what you did to deserve me.You loved me.  _ Loving Cas was as natural to Dean as breathing, he couldn’t imagine his life any other way. Never, in all these years, had it wavered, only grown. If this hinged on his capacity to keep loving Cas, it might just be the one thing Dean couldn’t break. Dean nodded, then pressed his lips to his angel’s. They finished their shower in silence, took turns drying each other off, tied their towels around their waists and went back to their room.

They didn’t bother with clothes before crawling into bed. Lay down face to face, a tangle of limbs, every possible inch of skin pressed together, clinging to each other as he drifted to sleep.

~~~~~

Their second waking was slower and more relaxed than their first. The warmth of his angel against his back was a soothing balm to his soul. He pressed into the heat, smiling as Cas’ grip tightened.

“G’morning Sunshine.”

“Good morning Dean.”

They laid there, silent and still, until Dean’s bladder announced that it was indeed time to get up. Cas groaned when he rolled to the edge of the bed, and Dean grinned as he leaned back to claim a quick kiss.

“Nap time’s over babe. It’s ten o’clock. I wanna grab some breakfast before we head into town.” He stood and stretched before he dug through his dresser for clothes. He smiled at Cas’ clothes mixed in with his own.

While he pulled on his boxers and jeans, he watched Cas stretch his arms over his head and bent to touch his toes. He tossed another set of clothes at his angel and stuck his arms in his t-shirt. “Cover that up or our schedule will be shot to hell.” Cas grinned at him before tugging on his own clothes.

Sam and Gabriel were hunched together at the table when they walked into the kitchen. Dean grabbed a cup of coffee and went to look over their shoulder. They were studying his prep schedule.

“Love the new dining room Gabe.” He patted the archangel on the shoulder before joining Cas on the other side of the table. He grabbed one of the muffins Cas had set out and peeled off the paper.

“I was surprised you guys weren’t up when I got in here this morning.” His brother looked at him questioningly.

“Couldn’t sleep this morning, so we got up to make the muffins. Most of our morning crap was already done, angel style, so Cas talked me into a nap.” The look he shot his angel was probably sappier than a Hallmark movie, but he really didn’t care. “We’re gonna head in to pick up the pies pretty quick here. Do we need to stop for ice?”

“Nah.” Gabe waved his hand. “I modified the bar to include an ice machine. Endless ice.”

Dean chuckled and took a big bite of his muffin. “‘S not so bad havin’ you around.”

Sam was studying him like he’d sprouted a second head.

“Wha?” It was mumbled around another bite of muffin, but Sam's expression didn't waiver.

“You took a nap.”

“Yup.” He popped the p.

“You’re not freaking out that we’ve only got six hours until Angel Air starts dropping people in our rec room?”

“Family room.”

“What?”

“It’s the family room. And why would I be freaking out? Everything’s ready. We did the prep. We have a pretty safe schedule, and if something goes sideways, I’ve got not one, but  _ two _ angels to save my hide.”

Sam sputtered. 

“C’mon Samantha, I put today’s present in the family room. I want you guys to check it out before Cas and I head to town.”

He tossed the wrapper for his muffin and headed down the hall with his coffee, Cas and Gabe following with Sam trailing behind, still looking like he couldn’t figure out what was going on.

Dean pointed to the corner opposite the tree. “This is kind of a gift for all of us. Gabe helped me get it set up. It’s a stereo, but there’s a karaoke machine built in too.” He pressed a button on the side of a unit and a screen on a rolling stand popped out of the side. “He’s got the speakers hooked up for surround sound, and hooked it to the TV.” He clapped Gabe on the shoulder. “Even managed to keep it a secret.”

“I can’t sing.” Sam blurted.

“You don’t have to be able to sing to do karaoke Sam, that’s half the fun.” Gabriel nudged his shoulder. “Deano’s got just about every Christmas song ever written all ready for tonight.”

Sam slumped onto the couch. Cas hugged him. “I can’t sing either” he whispered into Dean’s ear. 

Dean stole a quick kiss. “That’s okay, it’s Christmas music, so you can pretty much guarantee that everybody will join in.”

~~~~~

Barb had agreed to meet them in the post office parking lot at eleven. He and Cas were a few minutes early, and they stayed in the warm car while they waited. Barb bustled out of the post office at 11:02, walked over to a compact car, and waved them over, making a steering wheel gesture. Dean maneuvered Baby into the spot next to her as she popped open her trunk. 

They got out of the car, and Dean popped open the Impala’s trunk before they joined her, only to be pulled into a giant group hug. She smiled up at them. “Merry Christmas boys.”

Dean, recovering quickly from the unexpected show of affection, returned the greeting. “Merry Christmas ma’am, thanks for helping us out.”

“It was nothing, really. When Cas here told me that he and your brother had sprung a surprise Christmas dinner on you, I about wet myself laughing. Only someone who’s never cooked a family meal would think dinner for twelve was a good surprise.” She was chuckling at the memory as she lifted the lid on the first of two flat totes. “Glad I could help with dessert at least. You got the rest squared away I trust?”

“Yes ma’am, I’m lucky to have double ovens, and I’m firing up the first one for the ham at 2:45.”

“Knew you were a planner. Bet you have your schedule down to the minute.”

“You would be correct.” Dean was beaming, and Cas was just watching them. 

Barb gestured at the open tote. “This first one has pecan and pumpkin pies.” She recovered it and handed it to Cas, who stowed it carefully in their trunk while Barb opened the second tote. “This one has a French silk pie, make sure that gets in your fridge when you get home. I put in a tray of cookies too, for after the meal. You don’t have to share if you don’t want to.” She grinned at him and handed the second tote over to Cas.

“You, sweetheart, are my favorite person.” 

“I know your lying son, I’ve seen the way you look at him.” She waved a hand in Cas' direction.

Dean leaned closer. “He’s my angel, he doesn’t count.” He gave her a broad wink.

“He must be to put up with a charmer like you.” Cas had dug out his wallet and was thumbing through the bills. “You just put that away.” She swatted at him. “You boys take good care of this town. The least I can do is bake for you once in a while.”

Dean’s mouth fell open a little, and he stared at her for a second before his brain came back online. “Wha-”

“I’ve been around here a long time. Long enough to recognize a hunter and to know about that bunker of yours. I’ll stay happily in the dark about the details and just keep appreciatin’ the fact that Lebanon is the least haunted place in the U.S. thank you very much.”

Dean wasn’t sure what to say, so he just nodded.

“Don’t you start worrying now. Only a few of us know, and we aren’t sharing that information with just anyone. You boys are by far the nicest bunch to camp out there, and we want you to stick around.” She patted Dean’s cheek and pushed his mouth closed with a finger under his chin.  

She turned to Cas, “I thing I broke your boyfriend.”

Cas laughed,  _ laughed _ . “He’s not used to civilians talking about hunting so openly. Usually, the only non-hunters who know what he does are the people who find out because they need help, and most of them would rather pretend they never met him than actually show him appreciation with  _ pie _ .” He grinned at Dean.

“You never wondered why Higby’s always has twenty cases of shotshell hulls in inventory? Or why LaDow’s stocks a four foot section of salt in their 200 square foot store? Or even why I don’t even blink when you get mail for more names than I can count in your box? Boy, I know you’re smart, but you sure can be oblivious when it suits you.”

_ Jesus Christ, that's a good point.  _ He’d actually thought about how perfect this little town was for hunters. Why hadn’t he realized it was because it was done on purpose? “Believe it or not, you’re not the first person to say that about me.” 

Barb just laughed. “You boys have fun with your dinner.” She pointed at Cas, “Don’t let him get too worked up if things don’t go exactly to his plan. Nobody cares if you serve fifteen minutes late or if the ham is a little darker than you intended.” She dragged them in for another hug before waving them off.

“Merry Christmas!” He yelled to her back as she climbed into her car. 

He closed Baby’s trunk and buckled himself in before he turned to Cas. “They know. Should I be panicking? Should we move? We can stay with Bobby for a while I guess. We could try one of the other Men of Letters places maybe?”

Cas captured his hand. “Dean. You know how active the bunker was in the past. I imagine it was a lot harder to hide from the local population than it is now. If you were listening, what she said was that a select few townspeople were kept knowledgeable about the bunker. Lebanon was the home of the Men of Letters primary base in the United States, so it became a hunter-oriented town. They’ve kept it that way on purpose. She, and several other people, have known about hunters since before you and Sam got here, and they’ve made sure to keep the supplies you need on hand.”

“But-” Cas cut him off before he could object. 

“Nothing has happened since you moved in, why would that change now that you  _ know _ that they know about it?”

“Huh.”

“Besides, isn’t it nice to know that these people care about what you do?”

Dean didn’t respond, he just pulled out of his parking spot and drove them back to the bunker.

~~~~~

Dean ducked into his room precisely at 3:30 to swap his jeans for a nicer dark-washed pair, and his faded t-shirt for a button down dress shirt. He wanted to look like he cared enough to dress up, but this was still a family dinner, so he left the top couple buttons undone, and the hem untucked. He double checked his hair and headed back to the kitchen.

The ham was safely in the oven, with the display for the probe thermometer clipped to the front. He noticed that it had gone up a few degrees since he left, and with a little quick math, determined that it was on schedule. He picked up the vegetable platter and lifted the meat and cheese tray just as Sam walked in. 

“Grab the crackers and the other tray, would you? People should start getting here soon.”

Sam followed him back to the family room, and they got the appetizers neatly organized on top the bar. Dean pulled open the drawer to check the ice supply. He’d never seen an ice maker like this, but whatever Gabe had done, there was a full drawer of crystal clear ice inside.

He surveyed the rest of the room. Fireplace lit? Check. Christmas lights on? Check. Everything neat and tidy? Check. They were ready for their guests. Sam had divided their list between the angels, and Cas and Gabriel had popped out a few minutes ago. Sam had reminded them both to appear  _ outside _ their guest’s homes and to knock. Dean had laughed at the thought of Gabriel suddenly appearing in Jody’s living room. The guests were aware of how they’d be traveling, and had agreed to it, but unless you spent a lot of time with angels, their sudden comings and goings could be shocking.

He snuck back to the kitchen to peak at the ham one more time before people showed up. He’d only have an hour to be social before he locked himself in the kitchen, and he didn’t want to be distracted.

When he got back to the family room, his mom and Bobby were already standing at the bar. He’d clapped Bobby on the shoulder and was just leaning in to hug his mom when Crowley popped in next to Sam.

“Moose, Squirrel. Happy Christmas.” He nodded at them. Dean couldn’t be bothered by the familiar nicknames. Already, it was starting to feel like a celebration. His mood only improved as the rest of the guests arrived. 

After the last guest had been handed a drink, while everyone was milling around the appetizers at the bar, Cas came to stand next to him. He pulled his angel close with an arm around his waist and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Bobby walked over to join them, drink clinking in one hand and hunk of salami in the other. Cas moved as if to step away, but Dean tightened his arm.  _ Not hiding anymore babe, remember? _

Bobby grinned at them. “So, which one of you pulled his head out of his ass first?”

Sam, hearing the comment, laughed and loudly launched into a  _ vastly exaggerated _ version of Cas’ first mistletoe kiss. By the time he was done, everyone was laughing, and Dean was blushing deep red. 

His mom wrapped her arm around his back from the side opposite Cas and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “I thought you boys were together when I first came back. Are you telling me that you’ve been engaged in the world’s longest case of mutual pining all this time?”

His blushed deepened, and he bumped her head gently with his own. “Angels can be hard to read.” He said defensively. 

She laughed loudly, but leaned in again to whisper. “Honey, a blind man could have read the signs your angel was throwing at you. But I’m glad you finally worked it out. You look good when you’re happy.” She kissed his cheek lightly and moved back to the appetizers. Cas cocked his head at Dean in silent question.  _ She thought we were together when she first met you. _ He hoped the humor was evident in his thought. Cas smiled at him. 

They visited for a little while longer, before escaping to the kitchen. Dean tied an apron on his angel before donning his own and settling in to finish preparing dinner.

~~~~~

Miraculously, or perhaps with a little angelic intervention, everything went to plan. Sam, Gabe and Claire came into the kitchen with the nearly empty appetizer trays promptly at six. Dean sent Sam back, dinner rolls in hand, to herd everyone to the table and recruited the other two to help bring everything to the 'dining' room.

Gabriel led with the lightly dressed baby greens and the raisin sauce, and Cas followed him out with the bowl of split baked potatoes and a tray of toppings. Claire gave him a quick hug around the waist before she picked up the glazed carrots and the brussels sprouts. She juggled them for a minute, and Dean reached out to help just as she secured her grip on the bowls. She started for the door, but paused before exiting. She met Dean’s eyes over her shoulder. “Thanks for making my dad happy Dean.” She was gone before he could reply. He took a deep breath and picked up the serving tray of carved ham to follow her to the dining room.

~~~~~

Dinner was loud and chaotic. He supposed that was to be expected when one assembled a group of hunters, two angels, a witch, and the king of Hell for dinner. To be honest, he was lucky that the noise surrounding him was cheerful. 

He found Cas’ hand under the table and gave his angel a squeeze as he paused to take it all in. His family was all in one place laughing and eating and talking.  _ I love you _ . Cas beamed at him and returned the squeeze.

They finished off the wine, and most of the pie, before retreating back to the family room. Cas and Dean had been shooed away and Sam and Gabriel had managed the cleanup grace-quick to join them.

With six bottles of wine and innumerable cocktails in them, Christmas karaoke was hilarious. As Dean predicted, nobody sang alone. Cas led a particularly rambunctious version of  _ The Twelve Days of Christmas _ before they took a break to open presents. 

It was well after midnight when Dean found the mic pressed into his hand by his mother and being led to the stereo by his brother.

The title of the song trailed across the screen. He took a deep breath as the first guitar chords played and turned to face his family. He didn’t need to see the lyrics for this one, it was one of his favorites.

The room hushed as he started to sing. Evidently, he’d been wrong.  _ He _ was going to be the only one to sing alone tonight. He briefly debated hamming it up like he usually did when he sang, but the song was too close to his feelings tonight for him to be anything but sincere.

_ Have yourself a merry little Christmas _ __  
_ Let your heart be light _ _  
_ __ From now on our troubles will be out of sight

__  
_ Have yourself a merry little Christmas _ __  
_ Make the Yuletide gay _ __  
_ From now on our troubles will be miles away _ __  
  


_ Here we are as in olden days _ __  
_ Happy golden days of yore _ __  
_ Faithful friends who are dear to us _ __  
_ Gather near to us once more _ __  
  


_ Through the years we all will be together _ __  
_ If the fates allow _ __  
_ Hang a shining star upon the highest bow _ __  
_ And have yourself a merry little Christmas _ __  
  


_ Have yourself a merry little Christmas _ _  
_ _ Have yourself a merry little Christmas now. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things:  
> 1\. In case you didn't know, the song is "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" written by Hugh Martin and Ralph Blane.  
> 2\. I really hope you've heard Jensen Ackles sing by now. Despite the way Dean normally hams it up, Jensen is *incredibly* talented. Seriously, check him out singing this very song on YouTube at https://youtu.be/rAU9dVb_8dE . In fact, I really encourage you to check out any of his songs. I really wish they'd let Dean actually sing like that just once in the show.
> 
> Hope everyone is enjoying their holidays as much as the Winchesters!


	25. December 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas morning in the bunker. Turns out, Dean's not the only one who's great at picking out gifts!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally written for @notfunnydean's SPN Advent Calendar Challenge 2018 on Tumblr. I promise I'll get it posted there at some point. Today’s prompt was "Opening Gifts under the Tree."
> 
> This is my first long fic, and I'm really new to sharing my writing. If you find any errors, or just have feedback, please let me know. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Unfortunately, I don't own the characters or the bunker, but I can dream.

It was well after one in the morning by the time their guests had been escorted home and they’d tidied up the last of the mess. They’d agreed to having a lazy morning, with breakfast at 9 before presents. Dean was planning to make French toast with the rest of the loaf of bread Gabe had brought, and that made for a quick easy breakfast.

He snuggled into his angel’s chest and sighed happily. 

“Merry Christmas baby.”

“Merry Christmas Dean. Sweet dreams.”

Dean was out before his angel had finished kissing the top of his head.

~~~~~

Cas loved to observe Dean’s soul when he was sleeping peacefully. There was no damper on the flow of colors, no traces of fear or self-doubt or guilt, and the core goodness shone through.

Over the course of the last month, and even more so under the influence of the spell as he still was this morning, the colors were bright and clear. Like this, the red-orange indicating Dean’s personal power was predominant, and stroked with stripes of bright orange to orangey yellow giving evidence of his good health and detail-oriented nature.

It was the other colors though, those slightly less prominent, that Cas focused on. In the general region of his chest, there was a starburst of pink and brilliant red  _ love and a sensual, sexual nature.  _ He could attest to both, and was pleased that the love in Dean’s soul had grown. 

Despite all of the beauty, it was the tiny threads of glimmering gold shot through Dean’s soul that held his attention. The web was overlaid across all the other colors, without interrupting or restraining their individual beauty was the  _ proof _ of Dean’s acceptance of Cas written right into his soul, more dense in the pink-red starburst at his center, but visibly present everywhere. He traced the pattern with his eyes and then his fingertips, shivering at the feeling of grace meeting soul and skin touching skin. His hunter was a work of art in both his spiritual and physical forms.

Cas shifted closer to Dean as he shifted below him, watching as lids drifted open to reveal the green he adored, the thousands of shades of a northern forest present there, ever changing with his hunter’s mood. This morning, still half asleep, they were dark and languid. 

His voice when he spoke was a mirror of his eyes, husky and deep. “Mornin’ Sunshine.” The words were a familiar caress, even slurred with sleep.

He pressed their foreheads together as Dean’s eyes slid closed again. “I love you.” It was a whisper on parted lips.

_ Love you too Angel _ .

~~~~~

Breakfast was quick and cheerful, filled with humorous recounting of the previous evening’s party.

“I have to admit Deano, I didn’t know you could sing like that.”

“He used to sing to me at night, when I couldn’t sleep, for hours sometimes. When we got older, he stopped.” It was a quiet observation from Sam, accompanied by a look Dean couldn’t really interpret. “I missed it.”

“I still sing, Sammy. I just have more fun doin’ it.” He brushed off the praise and stood to clear the table.

Clean up was quick, and they refilled their coffee mugs before moving to the family room.

Gabriel, it seemed, had worked a little angelic magic again. The stockings hanging from the mantle were filled to overflowing. Sam headed straight for them, plucking his from the hook while Gabe dug the floor cushions out of the ottoman and plopped them on the floor by the tree. Dean retrieved the other two stockings, and they all took spots on the floor.

While Sam emptied the contents of his stocking onto the floor in front of him, Dean grabbed a flat present from under the tree.

“Okay, you’re going to have to open this one before we get started.” He handed the gold wrapped present to Gabriel.

Gabriel looked up at Dean, his eyebrows raised for a second before he grinned and started tearing at paper to reveal a pair of red and yellow flannel pajama pants and plain black t-shirt.

“You’re throwing off the vibe man, Christmas morning is a pajamas only zone.”

Gabriel laughed loudly before he snapped his fingers to don the new clothes.

They spent a few minutes examining their stocking stuffers. Gabe had clearly put some thought into it. Some of their gifts matched, like the tiny eternal matches for their key chains, and the assortment of individually wrapped snacks, but stocking also contained things chosen specifically for the recipient. For ‘Sammich,’ a pair of socks with sandwiches on them and a pocket reference of hex symbols; for ‘Deano’, another pair of socks, with little dinosaurs on it, and an Enochian pocket reference; for ‘Cassie,’ an assortment of birghtly colored boxer briefs (“I did my research Cassie, it’s an American Christmas custom for a parent to gift their kids with underwear at Christmas.”) and a pocket guide to common pop culture references.

“Dude,” Dean was laughing as Cas thumbed through the little book, “these are awesome, where’d you even find these?”

Gabriel wiggled at the attention. “Can’t give away all my secrets.” His grin was huge.

Dean stood to return the empty stockings to the mantle, then clapped his hands.

“Gabe, you want to play Santa today? You did a great job with the stockings.” Gabe popped up from his spot next to Sam to sort through the presents while Dean plopped back down on his cushion between Cas and Sam.  _ Gabe, don’t know if you tune in like this, but if you could save the little ones from me ‘til last, I’d appreciate it.  _ Gabriel tilted his head slightly to Dean and winked.

“Since Sammich is the youngest, we’ll start with him.” The archangel theatrically placed a shiny red package in front of Sam.

Sam unwrapped a new pair of running shoes from Dean, and bumped shoulders with his brother. They were identical to the pair Sam already owned. “Thanks! These are the best ones I’ve had, and they’re running out of sole.”

“You’ve mentioned it, several times.”

Gabriel cut off the sibling teasing by placing a large green wrapped gift in front of Dean.

Dean tore off the paper and cut into the box carefully. The box was full of commercial grade bakeware. He pulled out a set of mini-muffin pans, a jelly roll sheet, and a roasting pan. There were several more pieces still in the box. 

“I know you like the stuff you had, and I’m not trying to replace them. These are all things you don’t already have.” Sam looked a little worried, not really a surprise after Dean’s reaction to the revision of his kitchen.

Dean picked up a patterned Bundt pan. “I have an apple spice cake recipe that was made for this pan.” He grinned at Sam. “These are awesome. There’s a bunch of things I wanted to try, but didn’t have the right equipment for.” He repeated Sam’s shoulder bump. 

Cas opened a box full of pajama pants from Sam next. “I think that’s the only thing that needs to go in your duffel bag that Dean didn’t already get you. Well, and the boxers Gabe got you.” Cas grinned his thanks. No one mentioned that Sam had thought Cas having a duffel in the Impala was impractical.  _ That conversation turned out pretty alright anyway _ . Cas scooted a little closer to Dean so that they were sitting shoulder to shoulder.

Sam’s next gift was from Cas. The stack of ancient texts, several of which he had recently been bemoaning not being part of their library, earned the angel a giant grin, but the stack of leather-bound journals had Sam getting up for a hug. “You translated them all?” 

Cas just nodded and squeezed Sam a little tighter. “Like you said, what good is having the book if you can’t read it?” Sam finally let go of Cas to start paging through the translations.

A minute later, Dean was buried in his own set of references, a stack of cookbooks from Sam.  _ The Pie and Pastry Bible _ immediately caught and held his attention until Cas gasped beside him.

He was holding a pair of frames delicately in his hands, and Dean leaned closer to see matted photos. The first, he remembered Sam taking, of the two of them dancing quietly in the kitchen. He knew Sam had taken it with his phone, but the print was spectacular. You could even see the mistletoe hanging above them.

The second print, though, was the real show stopper. Dean was sprawled out on the couch with Cas laying on top of him, and they were both clearly sleeping. Cas’ head was resting on his chest his sleeping face aimed squarely at the camera. Dean’s face was in profile, his chin resting on Cas’ head. Their arms were wound around each other, and their legs tangled.

Dean glanced up to find both Sam and Gabe watching them admire the photos. He cleared his throat but his words still came out gruff. “Maybe I shoulda gotten you a camera, coulda been a professional photographer.” Sam smiled.

Cas set the photos down gently before standing to draw Sam into a tight hug. His “thank you, they’re perfect” was a near whisper. He reclaimed his seat to trace the lines of of the photos with his fingertips reverently.

Gabe finally lightened the mood in the room by tearing into his gift from Sam. There were a dozen boxes, each with a different type of candy or sweet. 

“Ahh, Sammich, you  _ do _ know me!”

“Well, I bought them, so they probably won’t be as good as Dean’s, but…” Sam let his sentence trail off with a grin. 

Gabriel gathered the remaining four packages, and reclaimed his seat next to Sam before passing them around. 

Everyone quieted, and Gabe hummed low before speaking. “So, I’m pretty sure we’ve saved the best for last.” 

Dean glanced down at the gift in front of him from Cas. Given Gabe’s serious tone, he expected it might be as emotionally charged as the ones resting before the other men. He nodded at Sam.

Unlike the rest of their gifts, Sam removed the paper from the small box delicately, and set it aside before opening the box. He lifted a ball chain with a set of dog tags, and flipped them in his hand to examine them.

Dean cleared his throat again. “I know we don’t normally carry around things with our real names, but I figured if anyone ever asks, you can tell ‘em you lost a buddy or somethin.’” He paused and looked at Gabe for a second.

“What’s this one say? I recognize Ogham, but...” Sam ran his finger over the engraving on the second tag, a single line crossed with series of shorter straight and angled slashes ran the length of the tag.

“Umm, it’s the Gaelic word for protection. They’re spelled too. Gabe can explain it.” 

Gabe leaned closer to Sam. “It’s several spells actually. First, a protection spell, if a harmful spell is cast at you, it will basically bounce off. The second spell is something like what Cassie engraved in your ribs. It’s meant to keep you off everybody’s radar, not just angels, no magic will be able to disclose your location. The last part is kind of an exception to that, so we can locate you if we need too. Once you put it on, they’re active and meant to be worn constantly, so if they’re removed, it will send out a sort of homing beacon.” He pulled a coin out of his pocket. “Kind of like a prayer. This is just one of the receivers. Dean has a set of tags too. So if you get into trouble, you can just take off your tags to call home for help…”  Gabe trailed off as Sam lunged at Dean. Dean hugged him tight and when Sam buried his face in his big brother’s chest, he rubbed his back.

“Now you’ll never be alone Sammy. No place we can’t find you and come and get you. They can’t ward against this unless all the parts of the set are in one place, and we’ve got a few spare receivers hidden away just in case. Unless you’re part of the spell, they’re just normal things, so even if a big bad went on a treasure hunt, they wouldn’t know if they found one.”

Dean patted Sam’s shoulder and guided him back to upright.

“Way better than a tracking chip.” Gabriel teased, nudging Sam’s shoulder. Sam slipped the chain over his head and tucked the tags into his shirt.

“You next Gabe.” Dean pointed.

Gabe wasn’t delicate with the package like Sam had been. He held up a little silver house key with the HOME stamped into it. His head tilt, so like Cas’, made Dean grin.

“It’s symbolic, cause the bunker doesn’t actually have a key, and you wouldn’t need one even if it did.” Gabe rubbed his thumb across the stamped letters.”

"It’s a house key?”

“Yup, to remind you to come home sometimes, even when we don’t call for you.”

"Home, to the bunker, here?”

“Yup.” Dean popped the p. 

“Can I come for breakfast? Can I spell the kitchen so I know when you’re baking?”

Dean just grinned. 

“You will not spell the kitchen unless I approve the spell.” Cas’ voice was firm and his face serious, making everyone laugh.

Gabe let his face go serious for a minute. “Thank you Dean. This means a lot. It’s been a really long time since I had a family to come home to...” like a switch, his expression flipped back to mischievous. 

Sam groaned. “I have a feeling we should avoid prank wars in the future. There’s no way Gabe won’t win.”

~

His hunter was smiling, but his level of anxiety had shot sky high. He’d turned, so they were face to face now, sitting with their legs crossed, knees pressed together. Spelled or not, grey-black threads of self-doubt and fear were obvious as they wound around Dean. Cas wished he knew the best way to comfort him, but he was feeling much the same.  _ What if Dean didn’t understand... _ He settled on an echo of Dean’s words to him. He leaned in to press their foreheads together. 

“This could be a rock, and I would love it because you gave it to me.” It was a whispered promise, not just for Dean but for both of them, and earned him a hesitant grin. 

_ Just open it so I can explain. _

They didn’t shift apart, their position creating a little bubble insulated from the rest of the room.

Cas peeled away the paper and opened the little box inside. Dean leaned forward and picked one up before setting the box aside. He handed the ring to Cas. 

“You don’t wear jewelry, but this is part of the set. It’s spelled the same as Sam’s…” He maintained Cas’ whispered tone.

Dean trailed off as Cas traced the unending loop of Ogham around the ring. Unlike Sam, he could read the ancient writing. “Protection, Love.” He rubbed his nose against Dean’s “Two things you have always given me without fail. It’s perfect.”

“There’s something on the inside.”

Cas angled the ring and brought it closer to their faces to examine the inscription.  _ Castiel Winchester 09-18-2008 _ . His eyes flew to Dean’s. “Winchester?” 

Dean didn’t reply immediately, just studied his eyes before plucking the ring from his finger. Cas reached to take it back, but Dean closed it in his hand.

_ To me, you’ve been a Winchester for a long time. Do you  _ **_want_ ** _ to be a Winchester? _ Cas’ breath hitched, turned into a tiny gasp as his hunter took hold of his left hand.

“More than anything. I’ve been yours since that day. Maybe even before.”

Dean smiled gently and raised a brow questioningly as he brought the ring to Cas’ hand. Cas splayed his fingers. Dean slid the ring into place then  retrieved it’s mate and hand it back to Cas. The Ogham was the same, and the inscription similar.  _ Dean Winchester 09-18-2008. _ Cas held out his hand and waited for Dean. Their eyes met again, intense with their proximity, and Dean placed his hand out tentatively for Cas, spreading his fingers as Cas had to allow him return the gesture. They pressed their lips together tightly for a minute before Cas pulled back to grab the other box. He ran his thumb over the band on his left hand, suddenly not nearly so worried that Dean might reject his gift.

The carved wooden box wasn’t wrapped. He flipped it open and set it between them. When his hunter looked down, the contents were clearly visible. Dean studied them, unmoving before reaching forward.

He stroked his finger along the barbs of the feather, rubbed at the tiny bottle glowing white-blue, and finally picked up the small piece of parchment.

“Your brother told me that gifts are given to show someone how you feel, and I panicked. I couldn’t think of anything that could adequately demonstrate the depths of my love for you. When I asked Gabriel for help, he spent an hour teasing me, but something he stuck in my head. ‘You’ve already claimed him, I’m not sure what else you can give him’ he said. And he was partially right. I did leave a mark on you once, though unintentionally. He was also wrong. I didn’t claim you. So, there is something I can give you. Me.”

“Cas…” _ You can’t just give me your grace. I could never… _

 

“You misunderstand Dean. I’m not giving you my grace, I’m  _ sharing _ it. That,” he gestured at the piece of parchment Dean still held “is a claim mark. Originally, angels would grace-mark the humans in their care with their names for protection. It’s like a neon ‘MINE’ sign, visible to anyone who can sense grace.” Cas drew in a breath. This is where things could ‘go sideways’ as Dean would say. His hunter’s gaze hadn’t wavered but now returned to the parchment.

“This is your name?” 

“No?” Cas hesitated. “It’s...In heaven, every conscious being has a unique name, angels, demons, humans. It isn’t like a name on earth, where there can be millions of Davids. This,” he gestured at the parchment again, “is a combination of our names. This isn’t a claim of ownership or protection, the way that using my mark alone would. This is…” Cas trailed off again, and suddenly Gabriel’s face appeared next to theirs, breathing the smell of chocolate between them. They pulled back quickly.

“Hi.” Gabriel waved. “Couldn’t stand hearing Cassie struggle anymore.” Sam joined their little huddle. 

_ So much for a private moment.  _ He gestured a his brother to continue, he had to admit, he really wasn’t getting very far.

“Okay, so, traditionally angels protected their charges by grace-marking them. Basically, it was like writing their name in Sharpie on people’s faces.” The review was directed at Sam, but Gabriel turned to Dean now. “This is more like that ring you put on Cassie. It isn’t his name, it’s essentially a hyphenated version of  _ both _ of your names, a symbol that represents you  _ together. _ Anybody who saw it would see his claim on you, yes, but they’d see your claim on him as well.”

_ You would want that?  _ Dean’s prayer was a gentle prod to his grace, but he couldn’t get a sense of how his hunter actually  _ felt _ about the idea other than surprise.

“I told you Dean, I have been yours for a very long time. I would bear this mark with pride.”

“You would…?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s another way this is different from your run of the mill grace mark. Cas’ll get one too.”

“But they’ll be invisible? To regular human’s I mean?” Sam had been quiet to this point.

“Good catch Sammy-boy. You won’t be able to see it. Well, unless you’re possessed or something.”

Sam looked disappointed.

“I could get it tattooed too.”  _ I can do that, right? So Mom and Bobby and Sam can see it too? _

At Dean’s seeming acceptance of Cas’ gift, Gabriel stood up and tugged at Sam’s shoulder. They disappeared.

Dean looked startled. “Where’d they go?”

“I believe my brother was trying to give us some privacy.”

“Oh?” Dean joined their hands.

“There’s more to this than what he said, but it’s...intimate.”

“Oh.” 

“This isn’t just a claim Dean. If you want this, these marks will bind your soul and my grace. You know how I’ve recharged my grace by touching a soul, how I can heal you with my grace? This is like a cable connecting the two, a constant flow back and forth, regardless of distance. It’s  _ irreversible  _ and  _ permanent _ .”

“Can’t think of anything I’d want more Angel.”

“Eternal Dean. We’d be bound for eternity. I don’t think you have a full grasp of concept.”

“Cas, I’ve been to Hell. I’ve been dead more times than I can count. Been to Heaven and Purgatory too. Can’t think of anyone I’d like by my side more in any of those places. That ring,” he gestured at the ring Cas now wore “You know the ceremony I’m sure. ‘Til death do us part. It was the best I could promise you. But Cas, if I could, I’d stay with you long after that. Eternity sounds just about perfect to me.”

Cas studied him, looking for any sign of hesitation or fear or...but there was nothing. Pure love shone from Dean’s face and his soul. “It sounds perfect to me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!!  
> I'm breaking Christmas Day into two sections. This is part one. Part two, which I hope to post later today, will be heavily focused on Dean and Cas' binding. But Gabriel stole Sam away before he could even get a peek at Cas' ring, and that just isn't fair, so you can expect at least a little more domestic bunker bliss.
> 
> I've also updated the final chapter count, because I still have an epilogue style chapter floating around my head. You can look for that one before the end of the year. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and for leaving me some love! I've said it a bunch of times, but this is my first time writing and sharing a long fic like this, and you've definitely encouraged me to keep writing. *hugs*


	26. Christmas Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas take advantage of the empty bunker to seal their bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two as promised. I apologize for the late post. Christmas celebrations with my family ran waay over-schedule. Hopefully worth the anticipation...

Sam shuddered slightly as he looked around. He was standing, barefoot and still in his pajamas, on a beach. He looked down at Gabriel.

Gabe took a step back and put his hands up defensively. “Sam, you remember how you told me that watching our brothers kiss creeped you out because it was intimate?” 

Sam nodded. 

“And you remember how you made Cas soundproof their room after that grooming incident?”

Sam nodded again, his nose wrinkling a little.

“Okay, so, there’s a little detail about that mark that I left out. Those two are about to get as close as they can get. You thought overhearing grooming was bad? We’re talking soul on grace action here. I mean, their room might be soundproofed, but I have no idea what kind of reaction will result when those two finally get their bond on.”

“Enough, I get it. Thanks for getting me out of there. Anyplace has got to be better, even...Where the hell are we anyway?”

“One of the uninhabited Rock Islands. Figured a day at the beach could be fun after all that winter weather.”

Sam shook his head. “I never know what to expect, but I have no complaints. Think you could mojo me some swim trunks?”

~~~~~

“So...now that we’re on the same page, how do we do this?” They were still sitting on the floor, facing each other. 

Cas’ mouth quirked up at the side and his eyes darkened. “I told you. It’s...intimate.” His tone was low and dirty.

“Jesus Cas, you’re gonna kill me if you look at me like that.”

Cas’ grin widened. “That would defeat the purpose. But, to answer your question, there’s a ritual. First, I’ll mix my grace with your blood, and I paint the mark on your skin with a brush made from the barbs of one of my feathers.” He gestured at the box. “I understand that the sensation of grace being absorbed is much like getting a tattoo, though with grace, there is no prolonged healing of the skin.”

Dean didn’t flinch. Blood sigils were nothing new, and it made sense, if their mark was a blend of the two, it should be drawn with a blend of their life forces. “And it will be invisible when you’re done?”

Cas nodded. “Yes. the blood is absorbed with the grace. You mentioned having it recreated in ink, but you won’t be able to, not in the same place at least. The grace will make the skin nearly impervious. You’d be likely to break the needle. I can achieve the same effect though, by manipulating your skin pigmentation. If you wanted that is.”

“Like a giant freckle?”

“No, I mean I _can_  mimic the shade of your freckles if you want that, but I can also mimic the shade of your anti-possession tattoo with a brown so dark it appears to be black.”

“Yeah, that.” He studied the parchment. “Does it have to go somewhere in particular?”

“Not really, no. It is preferable to place it near a pulse point, so that the grace is absorbed more quickly.”

Dean picked up the parchment, studied it briefly, reoriented it and wrapped it around his left wrist before glancing up at Cas. 

“When you ink it, could you invert it? So there’s a band of black, with the mark revealed.”

They talked about the design of the final mark for a few minutes, integrating Dean’s Ogham inscription, increased by several words, into the border. 

“Then what?”

“Hmm?”

“You said, first, you draw the mark. What’s the rest of the ritual?”

“Oh, well, the second part. I draw the mark on myself.” 

“If you make a template, I could do it for you.”

“That would certainly be preferable. Once we are marked, we exchange pledges. There isn’t really a traditional vow for this, so I took what I learned about traditional union ceremonies and wrote one for us. We can change it if you want.”

Dean just shook his head. “And that’s it?”

“No, but the rest is far less serious and far more enjoyable.” Cas’ wicked look was back.

"Ahhh.” Dean waggled his eyebrows. “Consummation. Never thought that word would be so sexy.” 

Dean placed the parchment back in the box and closed it. He climbed to his feet, picked it up, and cradled in one arm, reaching down with the other to help Cas up. “Shall we?”

“Now?”

“Don’t you think we waited long enough?”

“I suppose we have.”

~~~~~

Despite his comments, by the time they got to their room, Dean had reconsidered. He wanted a shower, and clean sheets on the bed, and not to have their dirty laundry setting the mood. He hesitated at the door.

“We don’t have to do this Dean, I understand that this is a huge commitment, and you said you wanted to take this slow.” His angel had clearly misinterpreted his hesitation.

“No. It isn’t that Angel. It’s just. This is basically our wedding. I don’t want to show up unshowered, in my pajamas, and get married in a room that we haven’t cleaned. It feels like a weekend in Vegas, and I don’t feel like that at all. Just let me change the sheets and grab a shower?”

Cas was visibly relieved. “Of course. Actually, why don’t you go shower, and I’ll clean up in here.”

Dean pressed a kiss to his lips before rounding up some clean clothes and heading to the showers. He cleaned himself quickly, but  _ thoroughly _ , toweled off, brushed his teeth, and slid into clean boxers and jeans. Given that they were going to mark each other, a shirt seemed superfluous. He fixed his hair a little before heading back down the hall.

Their room had been transformed. With the exception of the bed, all of the old furniture had been removed. The bed frame itself had been replaced with a dark wood base with two drawers on each edge. A tall headboard, framed in the same wood but with a geometric metal scrollwork insert rose behind it with the photos from Sam were mounted on the wall above. Their usual bedding had been replaced with cream colored sheets and a simple quilted blanket in sage was folded to the foot of the bed. New nightstands stood on each side of the bed, with their bond box open on Dean’s side. The walls were the color of milky coffee, and a plush brown rug covered most of the floor. Dean whistled.

Cas met him at the door, looking freshly showered himself, and also shirtless. He drew Dean forward for a chaste kiss before turning to close the door. When he turned back around, Dean drew his angel close, into what he internally called their moment-of-peace pose, resting their foreheads together, their arms around each other’s waists. 

“I love you more than life. You know that right? I won’t say it as often as I should, but I do.”

Cas’ arms tightened a little before he responded. “I love you more than everything. I love the way you show your love...it means so much more than hearing the words.”

“I know I’m doing this backwards, but…” Dean dipped to one knee, keeping hold of Cas’ hips. He blew out a quick breath and looked up to meet his angel’s eyes. “Castiel, will you do the honor of wearing my ring and sharing my name? Will you give me your mark? Claim me for the world to see?”

Cas’ smile was wide and tremulous. He pulled Dean up and back into their embrace. “Dean Winchester, nothing could make me happier.” Dean kissed  the tip of Cas’ nose before pulling away.

“So, what are we waiting for?” Dean grinned. Cas took his hand and led him over to the nightstand, where the little box was waiting. Dean noticed that a silver blade and a second bottle had been added. 

Cas lifted Dean’s hand and kissed the palm. “Would you like to make the cut or should I?”

“Go ahead, you’ll be nicer about it than I will anyway.” 

Cas picked up the knife with his free hand and kissed Dean’s palm again before running the blade across it. Dean barely felt the cut, but the blood welled up. Cas laid the knife back down and grabbed the second bottle. He tilted Dean’s hand and pressed the lip to catch the blood, massaging his hand until the bottle was about half full. Dean felt the cool flow of grace in his palm as Cas healed the wound before letting go of his hand. 

Dean watched as his angel removed the stopper from the smaller bottle and carefully poured his grace into the blood. He swirled the liquid, and Dean was fascinated as the two fluids mixed to create a bright metallic red still glowing from the grace. Cas set the bottle down and turned back to Dean.  

“If we take our pants off now, the final part of the ritual will be easier.” Cas delivered the line in a perfectly neutral tone, his familiar neutral expression firmly in place. His eyes, however, gave him away, filled with a beautiful combination of mischief and lust.

“You just want to use my hot bod as a distraction while the grace soaks in.” Dean laughed. 

“Actually, I was thinking about how much easier it is to get to the good part if we don’t have to fight through denim to do it, but you make a valid point.” Cas’ lips were quirked up.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I’m saving myself for when I’m good and bound.”

Cas’ eyes flashed for a second, and his grin was particularly dirty, but he limited his response to a low hum. 

They stripped out of their jeans and crawled onto the bed, settling into a position much like they’d sat while they opened their special gifts, though not quite as close. The box rested between them, stable between their crossed legs. Dean propped his left elbow on his knee and offered his wrist to Cas.

“You going to use a template?”

Cas bumped Dean’s offered wrist with his own left wrist, and faint purple lines appeared on both arms. Dean raised his arm to look more closely. It was exactly as they’d discussed. The outline of the entire tattoo visible, with the lines of the grace mark slightly darker than the rest. He lowered his hand back to Cas’ lap.

Cas held his arm tightly in one hand and the feather brush in the other. He dipped into their fresh paint and wiped the brush on the edge of the bottle before bringing it to Dean’s skin.

He felt the feather first, a tickling stroke across his skin. Cas had started on the back of his arm, rather than the delicate skin of his delicate skin of his inner wrist. By the fourth or fifth stroke of the brush, the tingling had begun. With each pass, it increased, finally settling into the repeated pinprick wasp sting burn Dean remembered from his anti-possession tattoo. That, too, quickly faded, as the grace worked its way into his blood, sending an icy burn through his body. It wasn’t painful, so much as Dean had never been so aware of the flow of his blood.  First the major vessels, then the smaller paths to his extremities, and finally the tiny capillaries. Every inch of his body was tight and itchy with the white cold burn. The pleasure pain of it had him tense with wanting by the time Cas had flipped his hand to work on the other side of the mark.

Cas didn’t flinch or hesitate, each pass of the brush was quick and sure, leaving his skin pinkened and hot. When the mark was near complete, he stopped and looked up at Dean. “Last chance to change your mind. The brush was so close to his skin, but not touching. 

“Do it. Please, baby finish it.” The grace in his blood was wild icy hot, every muscle in his body was clenched waiting for the final stinging stroke.

When the mark was complete, it was like a fire lit in his veins. For a moment, he thought he might melt from the heat in his blood. His pulse pounded loudly in his ears, and then the feverish feeling was gone, like he’d been dunked in an ice bath. He shivered uncontrollably. Cas’ grip on his wrist never loosened. There was a flash of icy hot grace there, and it drew his eyes down. Cas opened his hand to reveal the completed tattoo, the band a deep black, and their mark in strong contrast. He leaned over the box carefully to claim a greedy kiss before he leaned back. “It’s perfect.” 

Cas looked as awed as Dean felt, delicately tracing the mark on his inner wrist. The tickle of the light touch combined with the heat of grace Dean could feel on his angel’s skin had him groaning quietly. Cas pulled his fingers away quickly and offered his hand and the brush. “Now mine, please?”

Dean tried to work as quickly as Cas had, knowing how the feeling would be building with every second that passed, but his fear of getting it wrong kept him methodical and thus his pace slightly slower than Cas’ had been. By the time he was nearly complete, his jaw was clenched and he was sweating. With the final stroke, his head flew back and he moaned loudly. He lunged at Dean, dragging him into a needy clash of lips and tongue and teeth, his fingers holding tight to the back of his neck. Dean forced himself to pull back.

“Pledge?” His voice was high and breathless and it cracked on the single word.

Cas shook his head, looking like he was trying to regain focus. Dean stoppered the bottle and returned it to the box before leaning over to put it back on the nightstand. Cas leaned with him, retrieving a smaller piece of parchment, which he handed to Dean.

Dean worked to relax his breathing as he read the lines. It was simple and an unmatched description of how he felt about their bond, how he’d always tried to act toward his angel. He looked up to meet Cas’ stare. The angel nodded at him, a cue for him to lead, before he reached out to grip Dean’s marked wrist. Dean set the paper down, and mirrored the action.

Dean’s voice was low and steady as he recited the lines. “Let this mark be a symbol of our unity. Let all who see it understand these vows. With my body, I vow to protect you. With my mind, I vow to honor and respect you. With my heart, I vow to love and comfort you. Forever will our spirits be bound.”

As soon as the last word was finished, Cas started in Enochian. His voice rumbled in Dean’s chest, and buzzed in his ears, a hint of Cas’ true voice peeking through.

They just stared for a minute, lingering in the pure emotion of the words they shared.

_ I need you in me. _ Dean felt the words from the inside out, and he shuddered. But Cas’ lips hadn’t moved.

_Baby? Did you just_ ** _pray_** _to me?_

“Not intentionally.” Cas grinned. “Evidently, there may be some side effects to our bond.”

“You didn’t know that would happen?” Dean didn’t know if he should be pleased or freaked out. What other side effects could there be?

“This isn’t exactly a standard bond. It’s a combination of several different traditions, both human and angelic. I’ve never actually heard of this being done before.”

Dean took a deep breath. His angel would never do anything to hurt him. He leaned into Cas. “So, you need me in you, huh?”

Cas nodded. “Desperately.” Dean could feel the heat of their bond, could feel Cas’ grace practically vibrating under his skin.

“Yeah, let’s do that.” He pressed a kiss to Cas’ sternum as he laid him back, and felt a ghost of it on his own skin. Cas ran his palms up Dean’s chest and moaned.

_ Think we just found another side effect. _ It was a teasing whisper in Dean’s head. He claimed his angel’s mouth and they moaned together.

Dean took his time, as much as he could, touching and teasing his angel, working him open. It wasn’t the physical sensation that they were sharing, it was the  _ pleasure _ his lover was experiencing that was being fed back through the bond. Each brush of skin on skin, each kiss, each touch, built layer upon layer until all he could feel was a haunting  _ need _ to be closer, to be one.

It was too much to put it off any longer. He could feel the emptiness Cas was feeling, the waves of need and love and please echoing in his mind.  _ Please, Dean, please. Need you. Need US. _

He ran his lube slick hand over his dick once. He pressed Cas’ legs back, and leaned forward, just touching his rim.

_ Love you baby. _ He eased forward slowly, pressing in until he was fully seated. The feedback loop of pleasure was nearly overwhelming. 

_ Finally, finally. Please _ .

He wasn’t sure whose thought it was, but it didn’t matter, his angel was shifting his hips, and Dean moved to match the motion. 

The tight heat, the burning pleasure seering through his veins... _ Cas, mine.  _ The grace rushing between them was like a palpable thing, the concrete evidence of their love, building up in his chest until he felt like it would burst out. Their thrusts quickened, deeper, harder. Every stroke in like perfect completion, every withdrawal nearly painful. 

_ Need, please, close, Dean… _

He leaned in over Cas, fitting his hand between them to wrap around his angel as he brought their foreheads together.

_ Love you so much. Please baby. _

The force of their orgasm was blinding. A literal shockwave of light exploded from their joined bodies, so bright he had to squeeze his eyes tight.  Never ending waves of bliss pulsed through his body only to be returned through the bond.

Their breathing was ragged, and he clung to Cas, not wanting to relinquish the connection.

Cas’ rumbling chuckle below him caught him off guard.  _ Holy fuck _ . The laughing words had him joining in.

_ Yeah, I think that about sums it up. _

~~~~~

They were sprawled out on their picnic blanket, the remains of their lunch scattered between them discussing the merits of various weapons and combat techniques when Gabriel went silent suddenly.

Sam rolled to his side to face him. “What’s up?” 

“Your brother says it’s safe to come home.”

“ _ My  _ brother?”

“Yeah, not like he can call you here. Prayer doesn’t require cell reception.”

“So, Dean gave Cas a ring.”

“Yup. It’s got an inscription, kinda like yours, and it’s part of the spell set.”

“And now they’ve done the soul-grace thing.”

“I believe the term you’re looking for is ‘formed a soul-grace bond’, but yes.”

“So, should we have a reception?”

Gabriel looked at him like he’d sprouted a second head, then his expression went evil.

“Samsquatch. You have the best ideas. I think a party is definitely in order. But catered this time. And not at the bunker. And I’m getting you a camera. If we can get everyone in formal wear, I bet we could even get some wedding photos.”

“I was thinking more, quiet family celebration.”

“Party pooper.”

“Gabe, we don’t  _ know _ enough people to throw a party like you’re talking about. Almost everyone who we do know” Sam paused for a minute to think about it “actually everyone we trust who is both alive and currently has access to earth was at dinner last night.”

“Fine, Christmas dinner redux it is. But we aren’t going to let Dean cook, I can bring in the food. I bet that post office lady would make more pies.”

“Barb.”

“I bet Barb would love to make more pies. And I still think the formal wear is a good idea. For the wedding book photos. Not like we’re going to show pictures of the actual ritual.”

Sam shuddered.

“We’re not keeping it from Dean this time.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

~~~~~

They were curled up in the corner of the couch watching  _ Bee Movie _ when their brothers popped back to the bunker. Sam looked mildly disturbed for a second, but after a glance around the room, he lunged for their hands. Gabriel rolled his eyes and plopped himself on the opposite end of the couch.

Dean’s eyebrow shot up. “What the hell Sammy?”

“I didn’t get to see them this morning.” He was closely examining Cas’ ring. Cas looked mildly uncomfortable. Dean waved his left hand between Sam’s face and Cas’ hand.

The gambit was effective. Sam moved to Dean’s side to grab his wrist, now studying the mark.

“How’d you get it tattooed so quickly.”

“‘S not a tattoo, that’s how.” Sam looked up. “Cas angel graced my skin’s natural pigmentation.”

“I recognize this part as the Ogham from my tags. Protection right?” Dean nodded. “What about the other ones?”

“It’s personal.”

Sam looked a little surprised. “Oh. What about this date?” He indicated the earlier one.

“That is the day your brother stabbed me in the heart.” Dean blushed beet red.

“What?!”

“He’s kidding, I mean I did, but I didn’t know who he was yet. It’s the day we met. On earth anyway.”

Sam finally moved away to sit next to Gabriel. 

"Let me show you how this should have gone Sammich.” He stood and moved over to Dean and Cas. He leaned over and hugged his brother. “I hear congratulations are in order.” He reached out to shake Dean’s hand. “I’m glad to have you in the family Dean. Be good to my brother or I’ll hunt you down and make you wish you’d never heard of angels.”

“Dude, I gave Cas the talk a long time ago. But,” he waved at the other men “congrats. I’m glad you guys are finally together. I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen you this happy.” He grinned widely at them.

Dean looked at Cas. “My brother threatened you?”

“He did. It involved some very...creative...uses for an angel blade.”

Dean pointed at Sam. “No hurting my angel.” Sam nodded and leaned back.

Dean leaned back into the corner of the couch. Cas waited until he was settled and snuggled back into his side. He pulled a light blanket over them, kissed to top of his angel’s head, and restarted the movie. Cas’ contentment was a quiet hum across their bond. 

He was going to miss these little moments when they went back to work.


	27. New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentimental wanderings of Dean's mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Year's Eve is a time to consider your plans. Maybe don't make resolutions, just understand who you want to *try* to be this year.
> 
> Thanks to @notfunnydean for the prompt list that got me started, and to all of the readers and especially the commenters who have kept me going. It means more to me than you know.

**_December 31_ **

Dean knew it was too early to be awake. He snuggled in closer to his angel,  _ his husband _ with a contented sigh and let his mind wander. It was the last day of December, New Year’s Eve, and it marked the end of their first family ‘Christmas break.’ 

He wasn’t much for resolutions, never really understood why people made promises to exercise more or eat better or break a bad habit.  _ Got a list of things this year. _ Not resolutions, per se, but things that he wants to carry over from this month. 

_ Gonna talk more _ . He’d been blindsided more than once this month by how many things his brother and his angel didn’t know about him. The two people he was closest to, and they’d been surprised by him. Not little ‘oh, I didn’t know you didn’t like buttermilk pie’ surprises either. They’d honestly thought he’d only want to do Christmas up right because he figured it was their last. Sam thought something was wrong when he’d shown affection toward his angel. Hell, Cas had figured Dean wouldn’t want him if it weren’t for the effects of the spell. He definitely needed to be a little more open.  _ Just gotta figure out how to do it without turning every waking moment into a chick flick. _

He wanted to keep up with family breakfast too. It was good to have a minute in the morning to just relax together. Sure, it might take some reorganizing if they were on a case, but even just a cup of coffee in a crappy hotel room could count. 

Family time was another thing he wanted to carry over. Movie nights, family game night, hell, even baking together had been fun. And more than that, making sure that they spent time with the rest of the family, not just in big gatherings, like Christmas dinner, but what would it hurt to drop in on Bobby or Jody and the girls when it  _ wasn’t _ part of a hunt?

He was looking forward to getting back to business though. Saving people, hunting things, it’s what they  _ do _ , and they’re  _ good _ at it. He didn’t regret the time off, not even a little, but he was ready. Ready for his new apple pie life with his angel by his side.

They’d never really observed New Year’s as a holiday. Sure, if they weren’t knee deep in a hunt, or trying to heal through the aftermath, they might hit a bar, but it wasn’t much different from any other night. Winchester years weren’t really measured by a calendar. They were measured by apocalypses and survival; evil defeated and humanity still churning. Sometimes they were measured in time remaining, time until…

This year, the bunker has an entirely different energy. No big bads on the horizon, lingering reminders of  _ family _ and  _ together _ . There’s anticipation, a need to celebrate the possibilities of the year ahead.

The difference, to Dean, was  _ important _ . Instead of waiting for the next thing to fight, he’s pleasantly comfortable to enjoy these moments, aware that this year will be a new start… A new chapter in the Winchester legacy. Instead of just being the latest in a long line of a prominent hunter family ( _ if there is such a thing _ ), they would be a family of hunters. Emphasis on the  _ family. _

Taking a month off, though it was never what Dean had intended, had been good for all of them. They were closer, more honest with each other, more invested in working together. He and Sam had never been closer. He and Cas...well, the bond was indescribable. They’d even managed to bring Gabriel into the fold somehow. They were stronger than ever. 

~~~~~

There was a recipe and a fresh lemon waiting for Dean in the kitchen. He chuckled a little to himself at Gabriel’s presumption that he would bake on command. The note, though, was enough to keep him from serving cereal out of spite.  _ Dean, this is a Greek New Year’s tradition. Thought maybe we could start the day off with this. I have a surprise for later. -G _

With the Trickster, you could never predict whether the surprise would be well received or not, but Dean had to admit, he’d actually enjoyed having the archangel around this month. With their new bond, he could tell that Cas appreciated his brother’s company most of the time as well. The content he sensed from his angel was just a bit...more...when Gabe was around.

It wasn’t a hard recipe, and it gave him a chance to try out his new springform pan.

~~~~~

Dean was starting to wonder if Gabriel actually had spelled the kitchen. Just as he was removing the ring from the pan, he popped into the seat beside Sam. 

“You made it!” The archangel clapped his hands like an excited child. He snapped his fingers and a little spouted copper pot and four tiny glasses appeared in front of him.

“What is it anyway?” Sam asked, bumping Gabriel’s shoulder in greeting.

“Vaselopita. Greek New Year’s cake. It’s like an almond coffee cake. And this,” he gestured at the little pot, “is Greek coffee.” He turned back to Dean, who was carefully cutting the cake. “Did you put in the almond?”

“Yup.”

“Okay, so it has to be served in age order, youngest to oldest. Whoever finds the whole almond in their cake is supposed to have good luck for the year.” He grinned.

“Why Greek anyway?” Dean asked.

“I like the cake, and the tradition is fun.” Gabriel shrugged.

Dean set a serving of cake in front of Sam, then one at his own seat before bringing one for Cas then Gabriel. He grabbed his coffee mug and sat down next to his angel. Gabriel poured the four tiny cups of coffee and passed them around as well.

Sam took a small bite of his cake. It was dense, but...springy? Not too sweet, which surprised him a little since Gabriel had chosen the recipe, but generally good.

Gabriel slurped his coffee loudly, earning him Bitchface #17.

“Supposed to drink it that way Samalam.” He grinned.

“He’s actually right. Greek coffee is generally consumed very slowly and...loudly.” Cas shrugged. “A traditional Greek might take an hour or more to drink a single cup.”

Dean slurped from his own tiny cup, earning himself a slight foamy mustache. “‘S sweet?”

“Metrios. You add the sugar to the water before you brew it.” Gabriel didn’t look up from his plate to answer, and Dean just nodded.

They finished up their breakfast, no one having found the almond, and cleaned up the kitchen before settling back at the table to finish off their coffee. 

“So, what’s the surprise?”

Both his brother and his angel looked up at the question.

“Well, in the spirit of doing things up right this year, I thought we could watch the fireworks at midnight.”

“That’s like an eight hour drive if we want to actually see something good.” Dean was shaking his head.

“Actually, it would be like a thirteen hour flight, but I was thinking we could travel angel air.”

Dean’s eyebrow shot up.

“Where?” Dean didn’t fly enough to even begin to imagine where a thirteen hour flight might land them.

“Rio? There’s tons of people, the fireworks are amazing over the water, and there’s live music.” 

Dean slumped back in his chair. Brazil. Sure, he wanted to see fireworks, but in Brazil? His bond, previously broadcasting warm content, was tingling with anticipation. Brazil it is then.

“I haven’t observed a Reveillon celebration in decades.” Cas’ tone was carefully neutral.

“Don’t try to act so stuffy babe. I can tell you’re practically wigglin’ in your seat. Just wish Angel Air didn’t have such a rotten effect on my gut.” He patted his belly.

Cas opened his mouth to reply, but Gabriel beat him to it. “There’s ways around that. I mean, aside from the fact that you’re actually linked up to Cassie’s grace, which should pretty much ensure smooth flying.”

“How come nobody’s mentioned that before?” Sam looked irked.

“You frequently fly with angels you don’t mind hugging?” Gabe’s eyebrow was raised. “The single touch method is effective, but I understand it can be a little rough on humans. On the other hand, if you stand close enough together, your pilot,” he raised his hands and wiggled his fingers, “I can literally surround you in my grace while we fly. Kinda like the Good Witch’s bubble.”

Dean looked at Cas, who shrugged. “It only works with one passenger, and I thought it might make you uncomfortable.”

Dean couldn’t actually deny that.

“So we’re going to Brazil for New Year’s Eve? Just like that? We’re gonna just pop in watch the fireworks and pop back out?” Dean couldn’t get a read on how Sam actually felt about the idea.

“I was thinking we could start a little earlier, maybe have some food, drink some beer, enjoy the music?” Gabriel sounded hesitant, so it was a good guess he couldn’t read Sam’s mood either.

“C’mon Sammy, it’ll be fun. It’ll be like our last hurrah before we go back to work. I promise, I’ll find us a case tomorrow if I have to call every hunter I can think of to find something.”

“No, I  _ want  _ to go. I mean it sounds like fun. I’m just surprised you want to do it.”

Dean lifted his shoulder. “How many chances do we get to really  _ do _ something like this?”

“So, that’s a yes then?” Gabriel’s excitement had returned, and he actually was wiggling in his seat. “I’ve got to get everything ready then. I’ll be back by 6.” His grin was huge as he clapped his hands and disappeared.

~~~~~

They’d settled into family room for a Netflix marathon, which is where Gabriel joined them shortly before 6. He popped in next to the ottoman with an armful of bags.  _ Could the guy just dress normally for once? _

“Why do you look like a wedding castaway?” The archangel was decked out in white board shorts with red stripes, and a white t-shirt with a small red logo on the left of his chest.

“Tradition Deano. White has to be the primary color of your outfit for Reveillon so you can have a peaceful year ahead.”

Dean snorted,  _ peaceful _ .

“I got you guys some clothes too.” He passed each of them a bag. Dean dug out a similar pair of shorts, though with a green stripe. The logo, a match for Gabriel’s he guessed, was actually kinda cool. It was also green and had a stylized drawing of the front of the Impala, with the words The Family Business arched above and below it. Maybe he could get a couple more of these. He looked around to find Cas and Sam holding matching outfits, but in different colors.

“What’s with the color coding?”

Cas answered for him. “Each color has a specific significance. Red,” he gestured at Gabriel, “is for passion and strength. Blue,” he indicated his own clothes, “for harmony and health. Green, balance and new beginnings, and purple for stability and inspiration.”

_ New beginnings. _ It was a little eery how closely it mirrored his thoughts from this morning. Shorts weren’t normally his thing, but he could tell Cas was excited, and he’d backed up Gabe’s claim that they’d fit in, so he could do it for one night.

~~~~~

Angel air, husband style, was more like a prolonged blink that the disjointed jump it normally was, and Gabriel had obviously put some effort into his preparations. They’d landed on a jumbo beach blanket, and it looked like it was ready for a picnic. Four low chairs, with a small table to the side of each, were arranged in a sort of half circle facing the ocean. Two large coolers sat in front, and there was a small electric lantern in the middle. They were far enough from the stage to be able to talk without shouting, but close enough to enjoy the music.

Sam nodded his approval before lowering himself into one of the chairs. He looked ridiculous for a minute with his long legs bent practically to his chest until he stretched them out in front of him and crossed them at the ankles.

“Nice setup buddy. How did nobody steal this?”

“Same way nobody noticed us landing. They see it, but they don’t really see it.” He tapped the side of his head. Dean wasn’t going to even try to imagine how the archangel had managed to spell the area against the prying eyes of what looked like  _ millions _ of people. He’d much rather just enjoy their little private space in the pandemonium.

He tugged Cas over to the chairs and settled himself in.  _ Huh. These’re actually pretty comfortable. _ Cas sat next to him, and Dean bumped their knees together. 

~~~~~

The time between their arrival was filled with delicious grilled food (steak strips, grilled Halloumi skewers, and corn on the cob with  _ something _ on it that Dean couldn’t identify but loved), pomegranate, and a detailed discussion about Reveillon customs in order to explain how the fruit was an appropriate pairing for their meal. Dean didn’t consider himself superstitious, but he’d seen enough not to laugh in the face of traditions, and so tucked away seven pomegranate seeds in his wallet just in case.  _ Could always use a little extra money. _

He missed the first minute of the fireworks because he was kissing his husband, and wasn’t that a trip. He tugged his angel tight to his front and aimed them at the ocean because dammit they were in Brazil, celebrating their their first New Year’s together, and they were going to see the fireworks light up the ocean with brilliant color.

He’d seen fireworks before. He’d tried to take Sammy when they were little so his brother could have  _ something _ normal and awesome in his life, and fireworks were free and pretty universal on the 4th of July, but this was different, just like everything else in his life, it was something familiar, but oh so new and amazing.

This is a new start. A new year, started with his family at his side and a vow to love and protect.

_ Happy New Year baby. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You don't have to make a New Year's resolution to make a change. For me, I'm going into the new year with the hope (the goal) to spend more time being happy than being sad or angry. It's a big job. Being sad and angry are pretty easy, but accepting happiness can be really hard. 
> 
> I hope the same for all of you. I hope that you'll be happy, and I hope that you'll be able to let go of anger and sadness, and I hope that you can find a minute of peace every day that makes you just be glad that you're alive. I know, I *know*, how hard that can be, but we can do it. 
> 
> Thank you so much for keeping up with this. -MM

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Morning fluff in the Bunker](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17433140) by [Lysel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lysel/pseuds/Lysel)




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